What is the / true opposite of human?

By Jennifer Huang
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Poetry

What is the / true opposite of human?

Poetry

I secretly know I’d be a great flight attendant.

Poetry

Halmoni told me to never put a knife to my face. / I like to imagine she thought I was beautiful

Interviews

“It’s not really about trauma—it’s about what it means to resurrect out of that.”

Poetry

El árbol, de pie / expulsa fantasmas.
The tree, on its feet / ejects ghosts.

Poetry

Put it to the dirt: / lullabies, hair, memories, / nails, superstition.

Poetry

Her ambient expression / in strangled lace.

Poetry

There is no rush to continue / existing but I miss you / like an early page.

Poetry

It’s no wonder / that so very few / survive / the experience of being / cast out / into the blinding light.

Poetry

When the sky is falling / you must learn to / generate a force field.

Poetry

There was no difference where I went.

Poetry

And is this tenderness? Professional palms kneading my bare, / jittery skin?

Interviews

The poet talks with Eileen Tabios about his writing process and how “language can be a thicket and brambles”

Poetry

once there was a book where a man
raised the dead. / his followers ate the body.

Poetry

You’re sleeping so soundly it feels like a sin every time I move.

Poetry

But the question brushes off his shoulders and I realize /
he’s not going to forgive me

Essays

With our existence contested, denied, stricken from history, it is no wonder it takes the evidence of other lives to confirm the solidity of our bodies under our fingers’ touch.

Poetry

On a dewing street I stood bare and pinned by desire.

Poetry

A bridge has landed on my doorstep & a paper is asking me to leave / behind what isn’t mine.

Poetry

I’m not apologizing / when I offer my head to the leash // of your hands

Poetry

What is the / true opposite of human?

Poetry

There was no difference where I went.

Poetry

I secretly know I’d be a great flight attendant.

Poetry

And is this tenderness? Professional palms kneading my bare, / jittery skin?

Poetry

Halmoni told me to never put a knife to my face. / I like to imagine she thought I was beautiful

Interviews

The poet talks with Eileen Tabios about his writing process and how “language can be a thicket and brambles”

Interviews

“It’s not really about trauma—it’s about what it means to resurrect out of that.”

Poetry

once there was a book where a man
raised the dead. / his followers ate the body.

Poetry

El árbol, de pie / expulsa fantasmas.
The tree, on its feet / ejects ghosts.

Poetry

You’re sleeping so soundly it feels like a sin every time I move.

Poetry

Put it to the dirt: / lullabies, hair, memories, / nails, superstition.

Poetry

But the question brushes off his shoulders and I realize /
he’s not going to forgive me

Poetry

Her ambient expression / in strangled lace.

Essays

With our existence contested, denied, stricken from history, it is no wonder it takes the evidence of other lives to confirm the solidity of our bodies under our fingers’ touch.

Poetry

There is no rush to continue / existing but I miss you / like an early page.

Poetry

On a dewing street I stood bare and pinned by desire.

Poetry

It’s no wonder / that so very few / survive / the experience of being / cast out / into the blinding light.

Poetry

A bridge has landed on my doorstep & a paper is asking me to leave / behind what isn’t mine.

Poetry

When the sky is falling / you must learn to / generate a force field.

Poetry

I’m not apologizing / when I offer my head to the leash // of your hands