Beirut, 1983

by Jak Emerson Kurdi My grandfather was killed youngby his ashtray lungs when my fatherand his brothers were each somewheredifferent on their trudge across the bridge between boy and man. With their bodiestethered to windsurfing sails, they yokedthe bucking Mediterranean and skippedalong the foam, chopping wildlyat the breeze to maneuver the wavesof grief, hoping theContinue reading “Beirut, 1983”