I’m a Lebanese queer; I have lived under the direct and indirect consequences of US war-policies for most of my life. I also… more »
Out of college. Out of Grace’s apartment. Out of Toronto.
Into mediocre office job in some firm some place. Into tiny house with tiny backyard. Into Montreal.
She took up poetry to fill in the mountains of free time she had on her hands.
May 5, 2005. It’s all a blur at this point as if it had all meshed together into some strange convoluted yet somehow expressive painting. She can’t even recall where she heard the news.