Joseph O. Legaspi

From house to house, my sisters and I knocked on our neighbors’ doors and once let in we tiptoed into their kitchens, or beyond, onto cement patios where we emptied their tin cylinders of leftover foods into plastic pails filling up with slop to feed our pigs. Unlike clear water from a well, the stews […]

From her floral make-up purse my mother has fished out, flipped open her seashell compact, the rabbit tail brush dabbed with pressed powder swept across my face, feathering into alabaster, a masking. Throughout my grade school performances— whether stuffed inside a tomato costume or sandwiched between cardboards to resemble a book—my mother has applied liquid […]