Issue #2: Kindling, Ariel Baker-Gibbs
Kindling five days ago i was chopping kindling for my eightyseven year old grandmother when and if your aim is true the hatchet moves through the wood and it splits […]
Kindling five days ago i was chopping kindling for my eightyseven year old grandmother when and if your aim is true the hatchet moves through the wood and it splits […]
Seabreeze Seabreeze burned down last week. Seabreeze is the summer resort on the island where my grandmother lives. Seabreeze is where my mother worked as a teenager and I was raised […]
The Island on the island, there is no water. whatever does not sink into the ground is held in cisterns. once we have enough we cannot save the rest. the […]
deer it was dark. the fawn was crying. we’d never heard a deer’s voice before. it couldn’t get up. we didn’t know what to do. we went home. we tried […]
I hope my grandmother dies before I get married. I have said this many times, how it stings like a bug zapper in my chest. A flicker of guilt before […]
My mother calls the seasons into our home! my room is flushed in spring. my mother opened my window, drew our garden up the wall and into my bed, my […]
— Car Picnics On good days, Zaydee would take me out for a car picnic in his rusty red Cadillac, the wide leather seat molded to his vastness, held him […]
— Cutting ’Cots When I ask my relatives about cutting ‘cots, slang for picking and preparing apricots to dry in the sun of California’s Santa Clara Valley, they disagree on […]
— Chá Gorreana The land is lined with tea fields, neat rows now harvested by machine. My great-grandmother picked the plant by hand when she lived here one hundred years […]
Walk to Market The streets are as pebbled as the bottom of the ocean, basalt and calcium stones set as skinny sidewalks. You can tell the tourists from the locals […]