An Examination of Labor and Violence By Sarama Keum-Sun It was a horde of peacocks, flooding in through the four open doors of the car. They crowded into thrashing piles of flapping wings and pecking beaks—pecking at my head, my eyes, my mouth. My friend sat in the passenger’s seat wrestling them off me, butContinue reading “I Know Why the Peacock Prefers Roses”
It’s a common immigrant story: you escape a life of poverty and cross a giant fucking ocean to come here, because this is the land of opportunity. And maybe, compared to where you came from, it is. But accumulating wealth is HARD when you’re working class, and ten times harder if you only *kinda* speakContinue reading “Connection”
My storm began nearly 4 years ago with the double homicides of my mother and sister.
“Paradise will never burn,” they swore.
The long-time locals were gathered on the ridge staring across the canyon at 23 thousand acres of flame and blackness. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen: a perpetual sunset, writhing and leaping against the night sky.
“Trust me,” the locals said, pontificating with their cigarettes and pointing with their beers. “The fire will never make it this far.”
John Wayne taught me to fight.