THE PARAGON JOURNAL BLOG 

November 28, 2017

Red-clad brides and white-clad brides

outside luxury shopping centers in central Hanoi.

The wide skirts of their Western wedding dresses

and their photography entourage moving

from one corner of the block to another

following the sunset light.

At a war site along the road,

on...

November 27, 2017

The hotel where he stayed is gone; or rather, it now goes by another name.

The book I hastily bought at a nearby bookstore and he signed with uneven letters,

lost in one of my moves around the world.

He asked which book I brought. “El Informe de Brodie,” I said.

Borges see...

November 26, 2017

Spaces left by ghosts of other spaces     waves

not reflecting but fizzing the moon

like an old fashion Alka Seltzer

If I dig      sometimes     I find water underneath,

a ghost puddle,     out of place

r...

November 25, 2017

My texts to you accumulate

on my screen

one after the other,

uninterrupted threads of silence,

tails on an abandoned railroad.

My knocks on your door

resonate in the empty hallway

with the sound of cracking

stone-like eggs

of a mythical half-human,

half-rock bottom creature.

At t...

November 24, 2017

The long black coat hangs in the armoire      heavy with silence

decades of un-wornness          a lifetime stint in the tropics

gathered in the seams

Dead at eighty six

she never returned

to her woolen-some place

O...

November 23, 2017

They become alive in the kitchen, those wheat flour

particles that didn’t make it into the oven as dough

for our breakfast bread, and float around with the sunlight.

Dressed in black from head to toe, Grandma walks through

the beams and dissolves the vision. She stands by...

Please reload

ISSN 2470-3834 (online)

ISSN 2470-7775 (print)