שֶׁקֶט The Haredi woman tells me my prayers aloud are poisonous to God. שֶׁקֶט The Haredi women’s whistles and screams are poisonous to my prayer. תקשיב I enter the holy space, ready to receive and embrace the new month, Elul. תקשיב Instead of embracing melody and neshama, I am bombarded with discord and fear. שֶׁקֶט…
Why U.S. history tends to repeat itself — from the Indians to today.
‘I swear, man, we’re screwed, the whole world is done. Over. … This generation, Emily’s, I swear. They’re worse than we were.’
‘His two huskies pawed at an old dead possum, above them the cicadas were singing at full pitch as warm wind blew through the green leaves like hot breath.’
And why people keep telling them.
Xánath Caraza’s ‘Sin preámbulos/Without Preamble.’ Translated by Sandra Kingery and published by Spartan Press
Puerto Rico rises, every day.
I am coming home, Puerto Rico, for the first time. How will I find you? Will you recognize me as one of your own? Am I too late?