You are rubbing my head as Kabul falls, and again when your friend’s sister calls; bad news, bad news, it comes in twos, hold on to the ones you love.
Poems about the dark times.
You are rubbing my head as Kabul falls, and again when your friend’s sister calls; bad news, bad news, it comes in twos, hold on to the ones you love.
In the midst of this summer of fires and floods, UN scientists announce the world will continue to warm for 30 years no matter what we do, and absent immediate, drastic action, this trend will intensify around the time our…
-August 15, 2021 I spent hours last night trying to write a ghazal that included this line: unbroken, Umar Khalid’s still in jail, and also this one: they aim to break your soul and will in jail. ‘School teachers’ and…
-August 15, 2021 Vaccines, free for all. How many friends died waiting? Thanks, PM Modi. Someone’s in our phones. Do you sense them listening? They can’t hack our dreams. What of our farmers? They’re still here, they never left— I…
Last night as it rained, I dreamed I was a child; my parents were both sick— I brought them tea and stew. This morning on the road, a man scowled as he weighed a shard of broken glass— he was…