I am going to tell you a story, a story told to me by my grandfather. I am Dineh, the people of the Southwestern United States. I was told about the animals and their roles or how they became the …
I zoomed in on the phone screen, the app’s map clear as day said, “Frostie Freeze.” Eric’s tiny character, his bitmoji, was his exact match, a virtual representation of self. Every snap chatter had one, and we spent way too …
In the earliest of times when the lands stayed shaded in the black of night, there lived a rare species of bird with feathers the color of the brightest fires. This was a bird with many wonderous qualities, some of …
Home could be found effortlessly as if my mother pointed a beacon towards the sky to guide us. our summer escapes came in the form of canyon exploration and creek swimming. Possible dangers came from the occasional stranger, a snake …
I had a baby during a worldwide pandemic. My son’s cultural exposure evaporates with every passing month of life. Ceremonies Tewa babies undergo have been halted, like pausing a moon mid-phase. My son shines like a crescent in the sky, …
Often, I will look at a pen and wonder what is its personality. Every pen has a unique feel, an aura, and personality. When ink meets paper there is a specific interaction depending on what type of pen is in …
In her delicate and aged hands, thin strips of three-leaf sumac are carefully laced and woven. Kóodęę’ hózhǫ́dóo Shitsijí’ hózhǫ́dóo Shikédęę’ hózhǫ́dóo Shikáagí, shiyaagí hozhǫ́dóo T’áá ałtso shinaagóó hózhó dóo’ In beauty I walk With beauty before me …
All night the buzz of complaining lights keeps us employed. Our days are the drain and water circling. From the foreign places we feel labor, work being done. Cousin wolf sings about pawning love like it is inheritance. A song …
no matter how fast you go… poetry becomes the long desolate highway that has no end in sight no matter how comfy you are… poetry becomes the uncomfortable feeling in your chair no matter how long you snooze… poetry becomes …
FICTION
