Hamzah Jhaveri

A Trip’s End

An unfinished, unsettled air swells my lungs. I choke.Hollowed redwoods and pastel Victorians echo car songsI find no solace in repeating alone. Solo karaoke,solo smoking, or solo sobriety will have to do.

A Sobering Distraction

Seated in the center of the second row at the Yale Repertory Theatre, I glanced around, finding myself amidst a crowd chiefly composed of elderly, white adults clad in tweed suits and