top of page
  • Writer's pictureSamia Menon

to all

Updated: Mar 2, 2021

By Samia Menon


I can only describe things that are real: sharp air that tastes like the color of hospital lights, yellow summers that never come, et cetera. And the King of Kish will tell you, on mountains and on mirrors that only what’s permanent is remembered, only the permanent will exist, wedged between beads of sand and bone, indistinguishable now, as man or men and trace a silhouette of me in mortar on the underpass by your house so they see it crumble and remember— King of Kish King of Kings.

0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Going Home

By Madison Hu when the light turns red, he will go home in the meantime, three friends walk arm to arm the baby is on his father’s shoulders and it is nothing he can’t defeat yet later, he will only r

Selected Poems

By Thaleia Dasberg “simmer” over milkwashed fields plucking feathers off corn stalks bleeding I watch you steam you smoked thing boots freezing under a stomach hot with buried spring “sarasota (next t

Comments


bottom of page