I stand two feet hopping on the threshold I think of the children hands covering their ears one two three four hundred and sixty try think of lucky shooting stars... read more →
my grandmother believes in red blood flowers each woman has at least one many survive many do not I had no idea what this meant until now I am here... read more →
because this evening I burnt the dates charred like my grandmother’s heart I attempt another batch break open plump Medjools pry open pips boil until squashy enough to squeeze the... read more →
My grandmother believes garlic cures all ills, even feverish, frenzied fears so I sneak fresh cloves into my son’s soup, I burn and boil onion and garlic Cooking my way... read more →
First Clove the smell of garlic is the beginning of everything and in every beginning is a scent of the end I am seeking my beginnings in the soil of... read more →
Warriors cannot stop contemplating exile although they want only to sit Hand caressing cheek dry eyes closed now because who wants to see What happened since pottery was buried future... read more →
the language I come from has no mother so what if I don’t have a mother tongue that rolls off my lips Arabic Hebrew English never quite reaching my mouth... read more →