Tumbang Preso

What we cannot midwive They birthed and made live In the pit of their breath In the wounds of the heart In the violence of their words Oh th...

A young writer came up to me today. You write so well, she said. What is your technique? I felt diluted. Like I really wasn’t the talent I ...

I was at the coffee shops looking for this book I just took back from a friend who refused to read it because I asked her to, and I couldn...

Southbound am I. There's no other way. Incidentally. *** Chopping heads, making a new tract. My God, how refreshing. My cold blood warms...

“This daily news reporting... sometimes I feel like I’d jump on it,” she complains. Perhaps, seeing too that, I, fictionist and sometime es...