Poetry

Me Too

Itisha Giri | March 16, 2018

Me, too, can be king.

Two poems by Wayne Amtzis

Wayne Amtzis | August 27, 2017

Midnight pools catch the brilliant lanterns

carried by women in procession.

Deep into sleep

I follow them home.

Politicians and gods

Eleanor Walsh | August 23, 2016

The streets malinger beneath the tight-lipped sky.

Each stone draws like a weapon.

Each cooking fire is a funeral.

Poems by Wayne Amtzis

Wayne Amtzis | April 25, 2016

The stomach suffers immensely / It suffers from lack.

Jhunkyang: the last dream

Guru T Ladakhi | February 8, 2016

It’s midwinter and soon time for Losar / time also to cast aside our failures and regrets / and propitiate the deities for the New Year.

के म तपाईको फोटो खिच्न सक्छु?

क्षितिज | January 28, 2016

खिच्नोस् खिच्नोस् / कसरी बसम्? यसरी? / कि यसरी?

Kathmandu sojourn

Carsten Smith-Hall |

Broken stonework, sharp edges. I feel them / cutting my cheeks and chest. Maybe / someone took my legs?

The capital above the capital

Rabat | December 31, 2015

Let’s sit beneath this sky
strung with nine hundred thousand lights
and drink bowls of this old chyāng

My bastard child

Itisha Giri | September 15, 2015

You – my bastard child, you have learnt to speak, after years