“By some miracle
his bike was still going bone straight.”

By Ting Lin
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Poetry

“By some miracle
his bike was still going bone straight.”

Poetry

our resistance our resistance our resistance our resistance

Poetry

If you play, you wish to be innocent. If you do not, you submit to empires.

Poetry

We are willing to be buried.

Poetry

the cows eat the remmants of dew/
the cows eat 乾 and 坤

Poetry

“Anetra Aubade” and “Hardly Creatures”

Poetry

I had loved, fathered, and given up 
on my dreams in this otherness

Poetry

She makes the most beautiful cakes with her hands, my mother. They’re never too sweet.

Poetry

For all the Palestinians on hunger strikes in Israeli prisons

Poetry

Today, the sky greets me awake.

Poetry

maybe that makes me primal. or maybe it makes me whole.

Poetry

there are no more
orange groves in Jaffa.

Poetry

one leftover lychee from last night’s mimosaing, mimosaed decadence

Poetry

“Color” and “To a Friend I Miss”

Poetry

You lived in this body and
ripped the wallpaper out.

Poetry

“Singing into Soil” and “Chaplin”

Poetry

I, like you, came to Earth
unexpectedly.

Poetry

When I look, the ocean roars.

Poetry

If men are the first to leave, why do families still beg their gods to have sons?

Poetry

“By some miracle
his bike was still going bone straight.”

Poetry

maybe that makes me primal. or maybe it makes me whole.

Poetry

our resistance our resistance our resistance our resistance

Poetry

there are no more
orange groves in Jaffa.

Poetry

If you play, you wish to be innocent. If you do not, you submit to empires.

Poetry

one leftover lychee from last night’s mimosaing, mimosaed decadence

Poetry

We are willing to be buried.

Poetry

“Color” and “To a Friend I Miss”

Poetry

the cows eat the remmants of dew/
the cows eat 乾 and 坤

Poetry

You lived in this body and
ripped the wallpaper out.

Poetry

“Anetra Aubade” and “Hardly Creatures”

Poetry

“Singing into Soil” and “Chaplin”

Poetry

I had loved, fathered, and given up 
on my dreams in this otherness

Poetry

I, like you, came to Earth
unexpectedly.

Poetry

She makes the most beautiful cakes with her hands, my mother. They’re never too sweet.

Poetry

When I look, the ocean roars.

Poetry

For all the Palestinians on hunger strikes in Israeli prisons

Poetry

If men are the first to leave, why do families still beg their gods to have sons?

Poetry

Today, the sky greets me awake.