The Daughters My daughters have lost two hundred and thirty-six teeth and counting. They possess so many skills: they can craft sophisticated weaponry such as blow-pipes, lances and slings and know what the sharp end of a peacock’s feather is for. Last month they constructed a canoe and saved the Purdu Mephistopheles from extinction. They … Continue reading Two poems by Mona Arshi
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Ghazal by by Mona Arshi
Not even our eyes are our own... - Frederico Garcia Lorca, The House of Bernarda Alba I want to tune in to the surface, beside the mayfly, listen to how she holds her decorum on the skin of the pond. I want to sequester words, hold them in stress positions, foreignate them, … Continue reading Ghazal by by Mona Arshi
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