Tashfia Ahmed

La Bandito

She impales the bodies of chickens she prepares for a feast— My mother holds taut the fat clinging to the meat, By the sleight of her hand, separates it, And hurls it into the bin by the kitchen sink.

3w ago

Into the rhyme and reason of poetry

To be human is to be a poet. And I will tell you why.

“A well-read woman is a dangerous creature”. Is she really?

It concerns me that Tate’s apologists range from impressionable boys in my grade 9 classroom to 30-something-year-old single dads. My own mother calls me a ‘feminist’ with such chagrin in her tone, it begins to feel like a slur.

The native lores know

Language trickles down the routes that blood took through Time. They say it’s a linear path, and yet I, a reluctant servant to the wiles of Time, find myself laid out in loops and slopes.

May 15, 2023
May 15, 2023

La Bandito

She impales the bodies of chickens she prepares for a feast— My mother holds taut the fat clinging to the meat, By the sleight of her hand, separates it, And hurls it into the bin by the kitchen sink.

March 21, 2023
March 21, 2023

Into the rhyme and reason of poetry

To be human is to be a poet. And I will tell you why.

March 10, 2023
March 10, 2023

“A well-read woman is a dangerous creature”. Is she really?

It concerns me that Tate’s apologists range from impressionable boys in my grade 9 classroom to 30-something-year-old single dads. My own mother calls me a ‘feminist’ with such chagrin in her tone, it begins to feel like a slur.

February 25, 2023
February 25, 2023

The native lores know

Language trickles down the routes that blood took through Time. They say it’s a linear path, and yet I, a reluctant servant to the wiles of Time, find myself laid out in loops and slopes.