The Boundaries Begin to Blur: An interview with Nina Mingya Powles
Photo credit Sophie Davidson Nina Mingya Powles is an acclaimed nonfiction writer and poet.
Losing the Land
There was a spot in the middle of our lawn where I used to spend long summer days, communing with my surroundings.
Mother Tongue
Being We’ve been in Timor-Leste for two weeks.
Whakarongo ki te Tai Ao
My best mornings are spent on the couch squeezed onto our thin, sloping veranda.
The Ghost in the Room
Mask Before I open my eyes each morning I mentally list all the things I’ve done wrong. This is so I don’t think about them all day.
Objects Visible to the Landlord During a Surprise Flat Inspection
A gold velvet playsuit A black sequinned vest One browning orange A decapitated polystyrene head An obviously dead plant No family photos Three dusty polaroids of Rotomā,…
Slings and Arrows
Note: This essay contains discussion of suicide that some readers may find distressing. You think you might start with Shakespeare. That has always been your solace.
Tūrangawaewae
I did not look into his eyes, the youth who was armed with the venomous words he liberally spat at me.
A New Velvet Jumpsuit
My love of clothes interests me profoundly: only it is not love; and what it is I must discover.
