2007 issue : Selected Moments
"Selected Moments" are little excerpts of the upcoming anthology What You Do And Don't Want.
I once said "The world is made of strings of energies.
A brick and I are made of the same basic elements. The
strings vibrate differently to form different
particles." My husband stared at me, shaking his head,
sighing, speechless. He did not speak to me for the
rest of the evening, but he made me Masala Chai tea.
(A Chinese Affair, Isabelle Li)
James rocks in and out of the lights as he taps 2, 4
with his right foot. Normally jazz guys tap 1, 3, but
not James. Mahogany light beams onto his hand. It
mirrors his guitar mirrors his hand mirrors his
guitar. A green light spills onto his face. He rocks
in and out, in and out, in and out of mahogany and
green. All the while tapping 2, 4.
('Green Eyes': A Song by James Muller, Joanna Egan)
When we were ten, I cut off one of Anna's braids while
she was sleeping. I don?t recall what she did or what
she said but I remember how I felt. I remember
thinking, So this is why our mother carries scissors
in her apron. This is why she insists we grow our
hair. She is waiting for us to treasure something so
she can take it away.
(The Habitus of Blunt Tomatoes, Ashleigh Synnott)
You grew up in the province, next to a rice field,
precariously situated in a valley, with floods to
quell the brightest hopes. Every year during the
monsoonal season, you walked home from school with
your bag on your head, your shoes slung over your
shoulders, and water to your knees and heart. When the
flood subsided, your father made you clean the chaos
before you cleaned yourself.
(Early Dawn Precedes Sunrise, Reg Domingo)
They tell me I molested my neighbour's son.
I didn't do it. It's just plain wrong. Even if I
was into kids big time, this one is just so ugly.
(The Testimony of K. Pakulski, Jana Roose)
I threw out the green potatoes Grandfather had left
on the windowsill to ripen - Lord save me, and all
those men
whose parents never taught them about food
preparation,
helpless as their wives are dragged away by the
throat.
(In the Guildhall, Bronwen Morrison)