Poetry How To Stay Alive For myself and perhaps for some others it is all about watching, no, admiring the crystalline examples of intelligence found at times in the shade Read More »
Poetry My Living Dead Father “Every time I see my father I see Hell as a human.” My body is a room. I hanged my father’s portrait On the Read More »
The Walls We Build The Walls We Build: “There is loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of
the so-called naked truth I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings but I’ll burst if you shake me. one pull at a loose thread and I come apart at
Perfect Submission Another child has been killed by yet another house-help – this time they are both males. The boy, a child of 3, was placed inside
Aunty Philo At exactly twelve noon, she was found dead. Sitting all by herself, a fat old cat resting at the foot of her chair; oblivious of