Book Review – Gasoline Heart by Shannon Barber

Gasoline Heart | Shannon Barber Price : $15.00 Available via Lark Books & Writing Studio In a letter, Kafka asks for books than can be an ax that can cut through the icy sheath of a wintered lake; the lake, obviously, a metaphor in service to the human consciousness. A young brown woman growing up…

5 South East Asian Women Poets You Should Be Reading Right Now

In the recent months, sufficient controversy & public discourse has been generated about the popularity of Rupi Kaur – a Canadian poet of South Asian descent. Kaur has gained substantial international fan-following via social media, Instagram in particular, for writing condensed verses accompanied by minimalistic sketches that skim over subjects pertaining to immigrant life, gendered…

Book Review : Pizza and Warfare

Published by Garden Door Press Author : Nikki Wallschlaeger Price : $10.00 Pizza and Warfare by Nikki Wallschlaeger‏ opens with a facebook post about a visit to an optometrist’s office. It describes the humdrum act of getting your eyesight checked, suddenly decussating it with an investigation of instructional language so rampant in use throughout our daily lives. The…

float your gods on me

I read a poem last week, some real hot take on the military state of whiteness, that took the juice out of words to keep them young and blotted the lftovrs w cultrl refrncs made to blueprint the base of operations, made to unmask the latest imitation, ordered with just enough private education to reveal…

Lost Rooms

Growing up in an Indo-Rroma culture, you are expected to be thankful that your body is safe, that you get an education and get a job and be sufficiently independent so as to not be throttled daily by the immensity of a patriarchal inheritance stalking your every movement. Mental health isn’t even a dot on the radar. When I decided to study psychology early on, it was partially because I had already been through so many dirty corridors of indeterminate analysis and loud opinions that I knew the best path to understanding what I was experiencing was to study it myself. This was the beginning of a long and punishing dissent. I still remember pouring over my textbooks of Therapeutic Practices in Clinical Psychology with a nearly unhinged jaw as I read description upon description of every conceivable DSM disorder and almost all of them included a not-so-subtle exegesis that as a third world brown woman, I was almost 50% more likely to have a mental health condition and the scope for relevant support systems to help better my situations was slim to nil. In others, simpler words — I was fucked.