The Bangalore Review

I need to tell you about the old man sitting cross-legged on the crackedconcrete outside the Life building lifting drowningants out of a puddle with..

I. Pudgal, my grandmother explained, is the matter that sticksto your soul when you do a bad thing.Cloistered in the sunlight, stippled skin gleamingDidi probably..

One of my kids is crying because a girl in the other second grade class fainted during the experience:    A mobile planetarium in the gym,   harsh..

As if the zither wouldn’t quiverVibrate its songThe reconciliation between various components of the familyThe doubtful connectionBetween the kiss of associationAnd loveThe drum double drummingOf..

“Like I was suddenly some safer form of fire”-Ada Limon Parallel Mustangs revving at an intersectionBack and forthLike a conversation Between Neanderthals listing their killsAround..

I’m much more than a monthSo much longer than a dayI’m that which America fears to teachI’m more than the constitution will ever sayI’m in..

It’s okay to dieStanding upA beetle-eatenPine on the slopeOf Mt. Baldy You’re not aloneOne day you justLie down in the brownNeedle-hay that was youTo begin..

I’m not about to say it’s anythingother than a coincidence, the factthat somebody in my group over twohundred miles from Bellinghamknows of Jeff Mixdorf, knows..

Hurt people, there is no forever.Hurt people, always remember.— Fuad Ahmed Buriganga River washes the feet of your sons,Meghna River bathes ankles of your daughters...

is spic and span; you could eat off the floorif there was a floor; there isn’t, justa huge hole you can’t see at first, as..

In a plastic container wrapped in ice packs,a human heart sat next to me on the plane.I queried the flight attendant about the heartin the..

My friend says that everythingis anthropology: chess playersin Tompkins Square, the lineof cars at Starbucks, preteen girlsfilming Tik Tok videos. But the young girl, baby..

It’s March. The earth is dirge-soft with daffodils.  The rain goes through seven stages of grief. When I was a girl, the first daffodils I..

Her cooking is the honeycombthat keeps him succulent.He is seated, King Kong, at the head of the table,she is unseen, in the kitchen,sweating in holy..

The pill passes fondly between hands, Overhead the sky is filled with the wretched screaming of some thousands of cicadas,The stars gather watching.  It is bright..

i always eat the same foodsrice and beans and a side of something or otheri always go to the same placediners with coffee, greek salads..