2 min read
I used to eat baloney sandwiches scraped with mayonnaise by sewer-pipes thinking of Pennywise and now have an advanced degree that has harmed my employment potential.
Read the poems →3 min read
I have become an atom scattered somewhere in China. I give the system no service, but the system has also stripped me of the ability to resist.
Read the poems →8 min read
"The claim by some critics that her immense output is seen as lack of editing is absurd, one is unlikely to ever find a superfluous word in any of Oates's stories."
Read the piece →4 min read
I see her face is a horse face, but its colour is the same as a human face, white, delicate, and smooth.
Read the piece →5 min read
The apartment we rent is in the second row of buildings by the sea. Every morning, standing at the kitchen balcony's glass door, my gaze passes through the gap between two buildings in the front row, taking in the vast expanse of azure sea.
Read the piece →1 min read
Can’t We Sell It to Someone Cultured?
Read the poems →1 min read
I see my own deep feelings plain as a blank sheet of paper.
Read the poems →1 min read
I told you not to come in here. I told you not to touch anything.
Read the poems →7 min read
I wasn't supposed to be counting but somehow found myself calling out the names of past lovers that Amanda had tossed out like a piece of worthless trash. This time, it was with Edward.
Read the piece →5 min read
In a psychiatric ward in Guangzhou, ordinary moments take on an unexpected intensity. Xi Nan's seven poems move between fear and humour, solitude and human connection, tracing a restless desire to write, to love, and to remain alive.
Read the poems →Support independent literature.
Donation