In this life,
I was very minor.

I was a minor lover.
There was maybe a day, a night
or two, when I was on.

I was, would have been,
a minor daughter,
had my parents lived.

I was a minor runner. I was
a minor thinker. In the middle
distance, not too fast.

I was a minor mother: only
two, and sometimes,
I was mean to them.

I was a minor beauty.
I was a minor buddhist.
There was a certain symmetry, but
it, too, was minor.

My poems were not major
enough to even make me
a “minor poet,”

but I did sit here
instead of getting up, getting
the gun, loading it.

Counting,
killing myself.

Olena Kalytiak Davis

In O, Zeina Hashem Beck addresses white critic in both English and Arabic. She writes, “If I told you these words are not in English, would you believe me?” I am not a white critic or a poetry critic for that matter. I am just a novice poetry reader and I don’t understand most of her poems. That’s OK. I read them with curiosity whether in English or Arabic.

Even water
changes its mind mid-
drip from
the bearded
skull of a
streetlamp
strange to
be given
proof sound
comes from
movement
and noise
chaos—I
am the still-
fumed center
of the world
holding its
breath on a
burned thing
cooled

John Freeman

I watched Queen Chandelier a while back and somehow didn’t finish the entire special. I usually didn’t care about the comedian’s outfit, but the wings on Sommore’s jacket were a bit odd for me. I finished the rest yesterday while tuning up our skis and snowboards. The listening experience was better than watching it. She was hilarious. The only thing I could recall from her special was that she’s pro-vaccine.

I was listening to Leanne Morgan’s Netflix Special while tuning up our skis and snowboards. I found her jokes light and relaxing. She shared a great deal about her husband and their sex lives. I enjoyed it even without watching the show.

I recently discovered Yaeji’s With a Hammer through Amazon Music. Yaeji has saccharine vocals. Her phrasings are both exotic and eccentric trading lines between English and Korean. The productions are the elements that pulled me in. I am hooked on the electronic dance, jungle beats. With a Hammer is an impressive debut with consistent tracks throughout the album. I enjoyed it immensely.

Every day at lunch the gray heron
canters down from her branch in the brook

leaving behind turquoise eggs. There were
two birds, but kids killed one with a slingshot, so

now she hooks alone, casting with her giant
beak. Stirring the water with a foot. The legends

tell of what revenge nature will wreak, we’ll
be torn limb from limb, they’ll feast on our necks.

None of this seems true of the heron in the
brook, using her wings to create shade, lure

small fish into the coves made by trash
visitors dump amidst the glades. Cans of Coke,

T-shirts, a dishwasher, an old skirt. It’s become
the breakfast table for her. And us, what are we for?

To watch, mourn, to exclaim gladly?
I’ve nothing to hunt, to trap, nothing

to own, walking these woods with a fading
map, miles from my suburban home.

The heron looks up, and seeing I am neither
prey nor threat, returns to her disguise,

vanishes again in the weeds, standing so still she
is simply a reed, a white bill, two eyes.

John Freeman

Beef is an all-Asian-cast Netflix series starring Ali Wong and Steven Yeun. I didn’t know Yeun before, but he is outstanding. Ali Wong steps up her acting game. In fact, the entire cast is pretty damn good. Beef is dark, fucked-up, and edgy. Mad kudos to Lee Sung Jin. I hope to see more seasons coming in the future.

I stand before it
All that I own
What kind of heaven
would it be if
I couldn’t take you

John Freeman

Listen to what the air
is saying tonight

my friend, you’ve
been ashore a long

while, the time
for your sail

to fill is here.
We’re standing on

the verge with you,
take our arms

we’ll lift you into
this boat

you’ve been building
your whole life:

the beam-ends are
lined with your labor,

the arc of visibility
is clear,

everything that ever
was awaits you at sea.

Tell it to us when
we arrive

in due time, in ships
you taught us to sail.

John Freeman