When I think of radiance, I think of fire. And here, we choose—provocatively—to overlook the myth of Prometheus, with its infamous theft and divine punishment. Instead, we turn to the Kuba people of the Democratic Republic of Congo, who offer a rare myth of co-operation between gods and mortals. After the goddess Tsetse is expelled for her chaotic tendency to set things ablaze, fire disappears from the world. It is Bumba who then teaches humans how to harness it, revealing its source in the trees. This myth invites us to ask: where do we, as poets, harness our own fire? How do we keep it alive? What does it mean to be radiant?
the palace has promised three gold coins to he who might find the pea troubling the princess. the royal room is full of goose feathers and eggshells – many, already cracked, seeping syrupy rage. overseen […]
In the midst of the turmoil / today is our day of rest.
i want to make a ritual of washing my face, i want to appease my peopled when i say i am a thing/ it is gentleness/ when i say i am a thing that does […]
What do you know? I tell my friend I didn’t apply for a scholarship because I knew I’d be sick around that time. She tilts her head. “How would you know you’d be sick?”To her, […]
Today, the pain wears pearls, sits politely between my ribs. I dress her in cardigans and loose language: “I’m just a little tired.” No one asks tired how it learned to limp. At the pharmacy, […]
[UN]detected Motion On good days, I move like anyone else (they assume) On bad days, I calculate each step like complex options (they never see) Hiding the invisible hunger of my gnawing pain: Take pill […]