Born Lucky

by Hibah Shabkhez   Born too late to be children of the spring Lost too early for the grave of the fall You fly. Grateful still that your abyss-bearing thing Is paltry, unbombed, unburnt, one-foot tall You lie. So crave fried eggs and gnaw at stalks beside Your feet guilt-chained to an exam-clock fate And…

Read More

antigone 11

Poem and photograph by Fargo Tbakhi. when power decreed that body un-grievable, everyone made mourning like a pet. we filled apartments with chatter. we made heaven our subtext. naseem his body draped across the border fence. the tunnels under gaza overflowed with the things we smuggled in (food, bullets, fire, nothing) and out (music, bodies,…

Read More