Karen An-hwei Lee lives in San Diego, where she serves in the university administration at Point Loma Nazarene University. Her recent collections are Phyla of Joy (Tupelo 2012) and a novel, Sonata in K (Ellipsis 2017).
Poetry
July/Aug 2015
On Lightening
Not sure whether this fire-rimmed moon, bowled rose of hunger is due to solar radiation or aging. This day, the nineteenth of July, a wild hare leaps into a fire […]
Poetry
July/Aug 2015
On Apophasis
Flame trees or not, apophasis is another way to say no — No to Plebejus lupini washed lilac blue in the hills— No to a rabble of single-brood butterflies, swimming— […]
Poetry
Summer 2013
Perfume Enfleurage as Awareness
The airport closes due to a broken bottle of perfume. From enfleurage to blossoming paranoia— illness, waves of nausea. Fixatives and scents, the aromatic heart of cinnamon, vanilla, almonds, bitter […]
Poetry
Summer 2013
On Radiolucence
How can you tell if the God of the universe shines in a thing as odd as a soul? I mean the weary souls we pass on the street on […]