Repost: Exchanging Gifts by Daphne Kapsali

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  La Poubelle is on the warpath again. She’s set up a one-woman roadblock outside her house, accosting every passerby indiscriminately. A small boy on a bicycle was retained for a full two minutes, and she’s even appealing, in urgent tones, to tourists, who have no interest in our neighbourhood affairs. Which is unusual. ‘What is it this time?’ says Aspasia, a little too loudly. Aspasia has no tact. But then again, she has no use for tact, which is … Read More

Poetry

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  Poetry is the sustaining space between half-chosen words. It lives irreverently, despite of us, and it despises us despite of those who hold the words in tiny hands at night like pieces from their heart still beating poetry begins when breathing  ends and effort is surrendered

Sarah Kay – Useless Bay

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Once in Puerto Rico, I held on to a rock ledge for fourty five minutes, refusing to jump into the lagoon below. My friends shouted encouragement and strangers offered kind advice, until finally the man I loved crawled up the rock face and stood behind me coaxing, “This is not a metaphor!” He said this because he knew that I had already found a way to equate this failure with all other failures, knew that my mind prison is a … Read More

Sarah Kay – Dreaming Boy

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In most of the dreams I remember from childhood, I am a boy. Rescuing a maiden from a tower, or not rescuing anyone in particular, but definitely a boy. For years, when the only language I had were the scraps tossed from the popular kids table, “lesbian” seemed as likely an explanation as anything. What does it mean to dream myself a gender? What does it mean to hold that secret beneath my tongue? The first time I kissed a … Read More

behind the windshield screen

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  Sit behind The windshield in your car; Its quite amazing. From behind the windshield See the movie, A movie playing in front of you All-over So sit motionless but not emotion-less And as you drive As you drive by, your life, Unfolds around you And all the circumstances Now surround you Surround you like a play, A dress rehearsal In which we all are part We play ourselves -If we are lucky- We don’t play Someone else. And the … Read More

Sarah Kay – What we Build

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When I am inside writing, all I can think about is how I should be outside living. When I am outside living, all I can do is notice all there is to write about. When I read about love, I think I should be out loving. When I love, I think I need to read more. I am stumbling in pursuit of grace, I hunt patience with a vengeance. On the mornings when my brother’s tired muscles held to the … Read More

Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye – When Love Arrives

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I knew exactly what love looked like – in seventh grade Even though I hadn’t met love yet, if love had wandered into my homeroom, I would’ve recognized him at first glance. Love wore a hemp necklace. I would’ve recognized her at first glance, love wore a tight french braid. Love played acoustic guitar and knew all my favorite Beatles songs. Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me. And I knew, I just must be searching the wrong … Read More

Sarah Kay – Hands

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People used to tell me that I had beautiful hands. Told me so often in fact that one day I started to believe them, until I asked my photographer father, ‘Hey daddy, could I be a hand model?’ To which he said ‘No way!’. I don’t remember the reason he gave me, and I would’ve been upset but there were far too many stuffed animals to hold, too many homework assignments to write, too many boys to wave at to, … Read More

Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye – An Origin Story

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Sarah Kay: It started with a sweater. Phil Kaye: I was looking fly. First day of college orientation as a freshman… plus, I’m the type of guy who’s always trying to make a good impression. Sarah: He looked like a tool. And it’s the first week of school, so I’ve got people to meet and things to try. I don’t have time to waste on this guy loitering backstage at a talent show. Phil: It started with a freshman talent show, a chance to … Read More

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