Passages

By TEOW LIM GOH

Ten miles of concrete can bring you
to different places. Your feet carry you
across the ground, let you

into worlds unlike your own. You go places
you have never been. But what matters
is not where you have been

but what you see. What you choose
to see. Whether you let yourself
see the distance

between what is and what you want to be.

[Purchase Issue 15 here.]

Teow Lim Goh is the author of Islanders, a volume of poems on the history of Chinese exclusion at the Angel Island Immigration Station. Her work has been featured in Tin House, Catapult, PBS NewsHour, Colorado Public Radio, and The New Yorker. She lives in Denver.

Julia PikePassages

Related Posts

Zapata photo

Poetry by Isabel Zapata in Translation

ISABEL ZAPATA
"Reasons Not to Step on Snails"
Because they’re both male and female at once. / Because their shells grow with them. / Because Apicius cooked them with fermented fish guts. / Because their slime erases wrinkles. / Because they take three hours to mate.

Border marker

From “CORRIDO”

ALFREDO AGUILAR
Before the uproar in California about undocumented immigrants— / Before miles of border, that included the park, became militarized— / Only a simple barbed wire fence separated the two countries— / And anyone could meet there under the watch of the Border Patrol. / But I do know that every Sunday near noon a mass is held there. 

Little Wonder cover

Little Wonder

Kat Gardiner
The sunlight filtered through the window of our cafe. Golden sweet, it wove around the trees, the garden, over the stage, through the window and onto the railroad tie floor. I didn’t mind sweeping, because I got to dip my feet in it. There was music on, Gram Parson’s Brass Buttons.