Kamakshi Anand’s poetry tells the stories numbers can’t
Kamakshi Anand remembers in ninth grade thinking, “Oh, this is a thing people do — they write their thoughts online.”
Kamakshi Anand remembers in ninth grade thinking, “Oh, this is a thing people do — they write their thoughts online.”
i am a fruit tree / but a delicate rose is all you should see / — all i want you to, at least.
“Tell me about yourself,” they say.
The seagulls angle themselves toward the sunset / Same as me
Ambiguity, silence and the unsaid — for poet-translator and UBC creative writing MFA graduate Yilin Wang, these are themes that can tug at a writer’s inspiration to delve into their craft.
What does it mean to be in love with someone when you know the relationship is doomed to end?
“begin everything with bismillah | in the name of God”
I am the daughter of a farmer. / And maybe one day I will run back to my forefather's land.
There is power behind the name / The unspoken strength
I hate to love Vancouver rain. / It makes everything smell like decay. / It rots dirt fissures into muddy pools, / But it’s consistent.
my mother’s advice: / ‘there is no box’ / was meant to be kind