by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 30, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Overblown Rose A glassmaker, breathing down a long, metal rod, blowing a bud to a bulb which grows, told what it’s meant to be, how it’s meant to look. Cold, outside air hits; the shoot splits; little notions spitting out from the stem crystallise...
by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 29, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
truth bomb listen I grew up in a suburb where each street was named for a fairy tale in the land of dark forests and grimm siblings and in my mother tongue which brought you rapunzel and rumpelstiltskin no story ends in a twee happily ever after...
by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 28, 2022 | Featured, Prose
The List In The Brain This was a special day, Rabia knew it. She had to wake at least an hour earlier than usual. It was special for her too, because today, Saleema had promised to give her salary along with arrears. She gulped lukewarm...
by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 27, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Diggers We brought two diggers home, furious black engines, charged and alive, fire eyes with a touch of white. Outside, they clawed the earth, ripped back its skin, made visible its bones, a kingdom of limpet arms, divorced fingers outlining...
by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 26, 2022 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
winter sunset— how he says “young” after telling his long age Anthony Lusardi lives in Rockaway, NJ, where he works with the night crew at a Costco store. His poetry has been published in various prints, including Modern Haiku, The...
by Leah Jun Oh | Apr 25, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Farmer’s Daughter As a girl, I would stretch my Easter treats out until my birthday, birthday treats until Halloween Halloween treats until Christmas, Christmas treats until spring, conserving my quarterly reaping as though sweets were root...
