No matter how loud or quiet things got, in our house and in our heads, we could always count on one thing. The towels on the rack were always clean, perfectly folded, an inch of space between. They were nice towels, so nice we never used them. We just wiped our hands on our jeans. When my big sister and I shared a room, she put up a poster of my worst nightmare —Freddy Krueger. She refused to take it down, so my mom had a wall built right through the center of our room. I rem

all, in masks, and the boy, in thunderbird-pokemon pants asks mom, how come? the question lasts and the sign on the storefront, splashed says: non-essential. the one next door is a grocery store. all, in masks, we non-essentials go-- while essentials man the lines, designed for essential finds that non-essential members grasp unable to grasp the hands of those all, in masks, whose presence is the non-essential necessity that makes the essential things necessities C.J. William

Written by Reed Venrick. Take the leafy, shaded path—follow the boardwalk, enter the Nakajima Teahouse—a name translating to "in the middle of the island." There, you may sit on "tatami" mats before "kotatsu" tables and order green teas from Shizuoka or Uji Province. As you peer over Hama-Rikyu garden toward the bay, snack on traditional "wagashi" and "mochi" desserts, just as the shoguns and emperors and their wives and children did for centuries, and after the disaster of W

Dark skin, melanin Clearheaded and educated And now obviously frustrated From all the history books rewritten I know you expect us to keep on the way you illustrated But the elders came through—got our ways right And thankfully highlighted the facts you sugarcoat Black being misled and misguided. “Invade, loot, rape and enslave” They’d say they brought us out of our “caves” Still the method of our ancient constructions you have not explained. You are greedy and you see in us

None knows how I like to sleep at night even our mom who would say to you: ‘Your kuya sleeps like a baby, all curled up from his head to his toes, sucking his thumb comfortably.’ no. she was lying already in the bed and I was still preparing to fold my body, from edge to edge —my obsession. I learned in my 20’s to contort and make my failures into thousand creases, a thousand ill -advised carvings of constant folding and flipping. in this chasm between my eyes forming thousan