Creative Work
In “Mas’s Shoulder,” I asked my family members to cut out the silhouette of Mas Okamoto, my great-grandfather. In the...
Spring with its promise of holidayswas come on the open farmbehind the house behind your father’s house. You knew this:...
Having for so long watched othersset to work before me,I enter now the suit of heavy cottonand slip my hands...
A writer confronts her great-grandparents' testimony of Holocaust survival in a Yale archive.
one year i rose & there was snow smothering the leaves i watched a flake drift over the flowers bloomed...
One, I state to myself. There are no rules.A pigeon is a kite if she wishes.In an orange sky, a...
I like to imagine a campus bulletin board as one monstrous organism, every pinned flyer a new flailing limb. As...
A makeshift balcony offered space for small rebellions. It started with an X-Acto knife and a hairdryer. About six years...
And in the morning, The trash will be a heap of Exoskeletons & I will trace the language of Our...