Dispatch #010

Quarantine Haynaku By: Maiana Minahal Weeping, fearing doorknobs and shared elevators. 4/9/20 * My quarantine window Faintly smelling bleach, counting unmasked pedestrians. 4/25/20 * Maiana Minahal Poet, interdisciplinary artist, educator Author of Legend Sondayo (Civil Defense Poetry, 2009) Assistant Professor, English and Writing Kapi’olani Community College Honolulu, Hawaii.

Dispatch #006

By: Zarina Zabrisky Quarantena Purple and blue rubber gloves like leaves in the Golden Gate Park Where an empty Ferris Wheel skeleton looms over the empty Music Concourse. Knobby trees reach for the clueless skies. Like the Macbethian forest, it is all moving at us– Zoom funerals, Forbidden weddings, Mailing surgical masks made in ChinaContinue reading “Dispatch #006”

Dispatch #003

By: Alexandra Kostoulas It’s hard to know how long this thing will last. We are all biding our time and staying inside. There are so many things I wanted to do during this Coronavirus time and I love watching tv and reading books so much but I haven’t felt like it. I’ve also wanted toContinue reading “Dispatch #003”

Dispatch #002

By: Alexandra Kostoulas We knew something was up when things were starting to get weird at the grocery store. This line keeps popping into my head or a variant of it. Like some day I am going to be an old grandma telling my grandchildren about this time and they will listen to my storytellingContinue reading “Dispatch #002”

Dispatch #001

–Alexandra Kostoulas | This whole thing is hard. Some days are easier than others. Today was one of those days that was easier emotionally. But the few times I do go outside I see sad and worried looks on people’s faces in the streets. And the people who are selling food or in the essential servicesContinue reading “Dispatch #001”