“Where did your Malaysian accent go?” A close friend asked me after I came back from my first year at university. We were sitting at a café with sleek glass windows in Kuala Lumpur. “Give me a few days, it’ll come back.” Till then, he had to deal with speaking to a foreigner …
Paris-based artist Sandra Paris shares the surrealist collages that pulled her out of a major creative rut: “I love collage, to cut, paste, cut, paste…. it brings me back to my childhood. I love to associate and connect things that would never go together to create a dreamlike and poetic atmosphere in my collages.”
still has my copy
i still have her copy
at the mouth
of mina zayed, oozing
My Amma’s Malayalam is Trivandrum slang,
shifting between simple
churidar and formal sari in a blink.
my head’s not in the clouds it’s in second hand smoke rumbling the remains of a mute blast of a bomb i do not recall
i fell into birth
licked down like
sand tongue, salivating
against continent; i got me
a country this way
The lights are off. The class stands together against the corner of the room closest to the door. One student wonders whether black paper would really fool a shooter …
Three new haikus, carrying surprising water motifs, reflect on our quotidian lives.
Adella wondered if it was getting bad again. She had read a poem recently that called identity a “wet shirt” you had to pull over your head every morning.