Writers share the books they have turned to when imagining a world without without cages

By Rachel Kuo
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Poetry

lord, please gift me that same wonder. / to pause hunger for a larger suspension

Poetry

Through the radio speakers / I hear a woman shivering. I think of my friend, newly pregnant, / also on her way to work, how she’ll twist a ring off her swollen finger.

Poetry

A golden teardrop in the making. The skin stretched pale and translucent, leaving the flesh to its own devices in an increasingly dangerous season. The fruit will not travel far.

Poetry

stories that seethe in the blood: a lion / that slumbers in the copper pillar of her / body.

Poetry

My country is broken, / Mountains and rivers remain / In the city, grasses / Spread their roots

Poetry

Where did you abandon the snowflake on which I wrote my secrets?

Poetry

A girl labelled comfort / wartime ammunition / recalled her father who built / her home on / a graveyard

Poetry

The witch was not thorough / with her magic

Poetry

Gas station glow past 3AM, the glassed look of a man who’s been sitting for too long, hot dogs slumbering behind a screen, their skins plump and pink.

Poetry

shall god taste / the sick / bodies also / singing / also breaking

Poetry

At the door, like a dog. / I waited for love. / The heart / was a station / where evenings stopped.

Essays

Even though you didn’t say “no” in what you’ve been told is the “right” way to say no, you were saying no.

Poetry

I want to be sustained by a world that we create

Poetry

my fingers still remember the days-old-stubbles

Poetry

how much time / does the wind give us? / do we still run? / who sends the wind? / does it carry the bombs? / or do they come after?

Poetry

i want to banish the shame/ write it in a book to be banned,/ take the banal, grow a banana/ tree of new knowing

Poetry

tell me you knew all along & you reached for / the heavens because you were happy.

Poetry

I’m starting to believe in small magics like / astrology and sudden rain

Poetry

When I look back, I think about all the times Gatorade has let me down in my life.

Poetry

lord, please gift me that same wonder. / to pause hunger for a larger suspension

Poetry

At the door, like a dog. / I waited for love. / The heart / was a station / where evenings stopped.

Poetry

Through the radio speakers / I hear a woman shivering. I think of my friend, newly pregnant, / also on her way to work, how she’ll twist a ring off her swollen finger.

Essays

Even though you didn’t say “no” in what you’ve been told is the “right” way to say no, you were saying no.

Poetry

A golden teardrop in the making. The skin stretched pale and translucent, leaving the flesh to its own devices in an increasingly dangerous season. The fruit will not travel far.

Poetry

stories that seethe in the blood: a lion / that slumbers in the copper pillar of her / body.

Poetry

I want to be sustained by a world that we create

Poetry

My country is broken, / Mountains and rivers remain / In the city, grasses / Spread their roots

Poetry

my fingers still remember the days-old-stubbles

Poetry

Where did you abandon the snowflake on which I wrote my secrets?

Poetry

how much time / does the wind give us? / do we still run? / who sends the wind? / does it carry the bombs? / or do they come after?

Poetry

A girl labelled comfort / wartime ammunition / recalled her father who built / her home on / a graveyard

Poetry

i want to banish the shame/ write it in a book to be banned,/ take the banal, grow a banana/ tree of new knowing

Poetry

The witch was not thorough / with her magic

Poetry

tell me you knew all along & you reached for / the heavens because you were happy.

Poetry

Gas station glow past 3AM, the glassed look of a man who’s been sitting for too long, hot dogs slumbering behind a screen, their skins plump and pink.

Poetry

I’m starting to believe in small magics like / astrology and sudden rain

Poetry

shall god taste / the sick / bodies also / singing / also breaking

Poetry

When I look back, I think about all the times Gatorade has let me down in my life.