By: Brylle Bautista Tabora “Ma, just let go. Save yourself,” said the girl, whose body was pierced by wooden splinters from houses crushed by Supertyphoon Yolanda. —Philippine Daily Inquirer, Nov. 11, 2013 The world does not owe you an explanation. Like…
A Five Martini Response to “Writers and Rum” By: Christopher Connor Two weeks ago, Adam Gopnik, a veteran writer of The New Yorker, published an essay titled “Writers and Rum.” Mr. Gopnik’s post was prompted by The Trip To Echo Spring:…
By: William T. Hathaway There it goes, disappearing into extinction, that fine old mark of punctuation, the comma of direct address. Every time I read an email that starts “Hi William,” I wince. Deep within me lurks a reactionary grammarian…
By: ’Deji W. Adesoye I’m not hermit Don’t dwell in shell But failing in the gist and jest Nay, which authentic life ne’er permit I do not babble along these corridors Peep and play and in sanctum retire For my soul…
By: ’Deji W. Adesoye When I have a drive to know the world, I look into myself. For to search the mystery of the world, Is to search the heart thereof. And this treasure lay nowhere in the ether, aqueous, or…