Tag Archives: Daryl Muranaka

In the ultimate expression of Asian masculinity, Solo doesn’t mean solitude or a surly scoundrel, the rough-hewn hero. It means a mirrored name in a cheap plastic cup covered in the muddy fluid we pour at the tailgate over the … Continue reading →

We all remember our first dead thing as a vapor: the dead butterfly, the dead bee, on the windowsill. I remember the dead deer half-buried in the sand, the water waving nonchalantly as I strolled along the lakeshore. But that … Continue reading →

things change— the forsythia bloom, grass turns green as the blonde winter fades. but the cold stream still flows gray                         enticed by the promise of summer lurking beyond the blossoms. the cemetery is alive as petals rain upon the graves … Continue reading →

Scouring Google Earth, for a village long ago swallowed by the city, I find a gray and lifeless compound menacingly silent to the camera.             How what appears to be an industrial slum can be as impenetrable as time. How we … Continue reading →

The view from the road goes by in a flash even as the view of the town inches by. The miles blur like a photo mishmash. The years tick-tock as they multiply. Above the shabby farm town, forgotten and lonely, … Continue reading →

At the border between Mass & NY there are billboards reminding us there is injustice in the world that turns people into vagabonds & wretches for the curve of their faces, the mishmash of their shades, that blind justice is … Continue reading →

Is it bad that I forgot what my own face looked like when someone muttered to me, Why don’t you go back to the Orient where you came from! on my way to work? Here, too, we find the bitter. … Continue reading →

Each day,             passing the samosa and the roses,             the steady routine of returning home             sanding away the meaning of life             to the essentials of comfort,             of her hand on my back,             forehead to forehead, a smile or a frown             being … Continue reading →

He wonders how his life would have changed if he had slept with that woman who excused herself to use the restroom, her eyes so full with hope and anticipation, but when she returned, choked with disappointment because he had … Continue reading →

How many deny their religion because it doesn’t say the name God? How much is wrapped, hidden, and shrouded, like a burlap bag over the condemned man’s head. Dogma is human, thus precious. The sacred is profane. The intangible grows … Continue reading →

We moved, because we must always move, to a place where we wouldn’t move, somewhere where the houses were all the same, where people owned cars the same as ours, even down to the Barcelona Red. We moved to where … Continue reading →

Soon, or maybe not so soon, I will get on a plane to see my parents, daughter firmly in tow, flying to the other side of the world. But as I put my boy to sleep, eyes closed, gnawing on … Continue reading →

The baby peeps. The baby growls. I think he’s still asleep. The baby’s quiet. Then growls again. I close my eyes against the sound of the air conditioner, of the noise machine. Still I hear the growl, long and slow, … Continue reading →