Ostara is Icumen In: A Poem
Summer is a wild time of endless gaiety; A lazy, balmy, mild time; of human laxity. Of days with cares abandoned beside a socky shore, And breeze-swept, heathered stretches of…
Summer is a wild time of endless gaiety; A lazy, balmy, mild time; of human laxity. Of days with cares abandoned beside a socky shore, And breeze-swept, heathered stretches of…
I lost someone close to me last week. One of my parents, to tell you the truth. And while they weren’t exactly a birth parent, they practically raised me. Some…
As a media studies scholar and cereal addict, I find popular culture mascots such as Tony the Tiger and the King Vitamin (my all time fav, second only to Count…
while I’m more than savvy regarding the western dramatic tradition and familiar with the ins and outs of the Poetics, my training is in the Eastern tradition. So take my…
I first met Alex doing research on a local variation of Darija. (Moroccan Arabic). We both managed to find ourselves in Fez, that day, sitting across from one another and,…
I dress my body in lines of verse, each syllable a piece of cloth, a garment woven of words diverse, to hide my nakedness from sloth.