- Poetry
I’d like to write a poem
so tender
that a kitten would enter it
to lap up some milk
- Poetry videos
Poem from the poetry book "Seismograph"
- Reflections on Belonging
By the sea, we're all mostly other, and it's all temporary. We meet and part – like sand and water: now soaked in a mantra jam – we share silence, too; now dry, in low tide – we don't bother to text.
- Poetry videos
Poem from the poetry book "A Spider Between Your Lips"
- Reviews
Laima Vincė (ed.). Heritage, Connection, Writing. Conversations with North American Lithuanian Diaspora Writers.
by Žydronė Kolevinskienė
- Poetry
I’d like your body to be a hotel
I could spend a week there
a five-star hotel in the city center
with windows looking out onto three Eiffel towers
I can’t take my eyes off them
- Reflections on Belonging
I was Grandpa's little friend, his little ghost, he would say, and I would spend hours on weekends looking through his scrapbooks filled with old cutouts of Lithuania's vast forests and sand dunes.
- Poetry
negative, you’re always negative
angry grunts from every which way
but dip me in the lord’s developer
and my true form will become apparent
- Interviews
Growing up Lithuanian American, if you had a Lithuanian name, that name always marked you as something other. If you don't have an Anglo-Saxon name, or if there's something about the food you eat... Oh my goodness, as a little girl, I remember my father growing his own apple trees, which was very unusual in the suburbs of New York...
- Reflections on Belonging
A lung specialist, my grandfather spent the bulk of his career treating tuberculosis patients. He’d studied medicine in the interwar capital of Lithuania. A photograph shows him with eight other young men and three women gathered around a table.
by Julija Šukys
