House Party

If I could pass as Kenyan, if I could walk down the street here and, prior even to speech, appear undistinguishable, there is still another

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Blackout

The power has been out for two days now. I read that during New York’s last extended blackout millions of dollars in food spoiled; torrents

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Train to Mwanza

The train station in Dar is cushioned from the street by a ring of families seated on their luggage, lounging in the grey light of

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After.

“So that’s it? That’s all?” “There’s this.” “And after this?” Shrugs. The tie. Drawing to its’ end, pulling it taut. Fingers intertwine, hands over belt

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Concentration

I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought about going home. The sense of being out-of-place becomes comfortable, familiar. Like a heavy coat in a

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Eli Feuer

I can recall with remarkable specificity the first time I saw Feuer’s paper. There was a particular grade of shallowly grasped academic pornography that circulated

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