I’m alive and I have an appetite/ for longing.

映 with a skinny sun radical and 其 a pronoun/ pointing to who knows what.

What if he just said the bird waited forever to alight.

I am the world inside/ of every persimmon

Joy is impossible to fake, they say.

I am trying to imagine my new life when I am returned to the place of my parents’ birth.

그때 그 상황에 헌병들이 하는 말이 모두 쏼라쏼라 들렸다. | The English words of the police fell senselessly to the ground.

Now it’s raining and I’m sixteen and unlicensed.

An open call for criticism pitches

There are few men who will communicate with you in all the languages you know.

An interview with Kanya D’Almeida, the cowriter of Russell “Maroon” Shoatz’s memoir.

For a second, I imagine how it feels to inhabit a body people desire like gold.

Kakolór pati kan álang na tulang nin tawó / an pigrunot na bagás asín ginibong puto. |
Especially when you notice the rice flour / that she uses is the color of human bone.

where, fifty, years, earlier, lolo, learned, engineering

My arms ache/ in the cereal aisle.

Juyon Lee’s work plays with light and distance.

you choose to put yourself beneath its flag

What do return narratives tell us about a changing world? As China has risen to economic power, a trend in Chinese American literature has emerged.

I once lost my name in a pyre

As my math grades plummeted, my interest in trombone records skyrocketed