By Frances Kai-Hwa Wang
Issue no 20
An APWT publication
Winning Entry
He laughed at me and my family for saving and reusing—tofu containers, green onion rubber bands, plastic bags, twist ties, takeout containers, glass jars, cookie tins—and he took it upon himself to secretly throw away all that we had carefully saved and washed and stored away. He thought it made us small and poor to reuse. He was big and rich enough to go out to the store to buy things new.
By Jose Varghese
Issue no 20
An APWT publication
Little mother rocks the baby in her tiny arms that’ve migrated from pain
to numbness, from struggles to sorrows. She forgets the lies about better worlds. Eyes that hawk low over her are burnt deep in scorn. Hunger comes in search of her body. Overgrown fingernails dig deep on the flesh of her past…
By Lawdenmarc Decamora
Issue no 20
An APWT publication
Catch a glimpse of my moon-shaped heart / sire a vision / as you sail across my sea of affection / Take a look at my three-bodied musica bolero / singeing (meta)phors / grey skies over disputed waters & remedial Spanish / our Pacific mono no aware w/ second-to-none maritime territorial integrity / What is it like living in your afterglow / when sea & sky never touch each other / & the planet is forever a mystery to explain…
By Yuyutsu Sharma
Issue no 20
An APWT publication
Mona Lisa’s drunk
from the jasmine scent of her secret fish
drunk from
the magic fruit of her sex,
drunk and stoned
from reveries of hi-tech city’s space cakes.
Mona Lisa’s drunk
from her green eyes’ glamour
that open and kiss
quivering doors of the temple of my face.
