poetry

An original poem for those in a long-distance relationship – by Stephen Nashef

They lived at the antipodes

and could not cross from their extremes

the distance filled with countries, seas

so agreed to meet up in their dreams.

The flirtatious perils of language tutors – a prose poem by Stephen Nashef

“What time would you like to connect tomorrow?”

He said it with a suggestive phrasing (untranslatable to English) as though the matter had already been decided. He knew that, in the language he was using, “to connect” could mean “to meet” – as in “What time shall we meet for class tomorrow?”

However, “to connect” could also mean “to fuck” – as in “What time shall we fuck tomorrow?”

A new poem from the land of expat

I look at you Shanghai. I look at you, you look away.

But mind you Shanghai, this is not a love song,

and fuck the broken hearted,

you know what you did to lose what you had,

you all do, as do I.

You gave me everything Shanghai, all you had to offer,

a billion RMB in an LV man-bag, prime real estate in Lujiazui, an uncle in politics,

and a mink mini-skirt on a late night Mint massacre.

That’s right, I know you Shanghai.