How a centuries-old vocal art is finding new life in New York

there is no god but the God you can call with a bruised mouth 

An interview with Devyn Mañibo

A folio of poetry, prose, and hybrid work

We chase each other through the murmuration.

What lies on the land between this life and that death?

राई का दाना इतना छोटा होता है
The seed of the mustard is so small

When the fire mouths Oh Oh Oh I know what it means.

On Tony Tulathimutte’s Rejection

“Placebo” and “Party Ghost”

What has been told, what has been withheld, what might yet be written differently?

On every grave, for saint or for sinner, grows a green garden

I grow, I decay, darkness comes, lightness comes

auspicious tree roots
Rather than waste energy
told a new story

aku laju ke masa yang nun | I continued to the time over yonder

A triptych

the peaks of this memory
sharpen

An open call for journalism on Asian immigrant and Muslim communities

they get melanoma to look just like me