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Kaleem Hawa

Kaleem Hawa has written about art, film, and literature for the New York Review of Books, The Nation, and Artforum, among others.



Articles Available Online


Hating it Lush: On Tel Aviv

Essay

May 2023

Kaleem Hawa

Essay

May 2023

I   They made the desert bloom, tall sparkling towers and clean Bauhaus lines, and apple-ring acacias, and teal blue shuttle buses, and stock...

Poetry

Issue No. 28

Three poems from issue 28

Sarah Barnsley

Valzhyna Mort

Kaleem Hawa

Poetry

Issue No. 28

Valzhyna Mort, ‘Music for Girl’s Voice and Bison’   Sarah Barnsley, ‘Virginia Woolf Has Fallen Over’   Kaleem Hawa,...

God has very particular political opinions – John le Carré     M is whizzing round the Cheltenham Waitrose, throwing sugar snap peas, prawns, rice noodles, ready-sliced peppers and pumpkin soup into her half-sized trolley Oh, and milk   L is setting out the exercise books and children’s drawings ready for parents’ information evening   Z swaps his Oyster cards in his wallet before leaving the house, switching to his other, pre-reg card for the journey from home to the party meeting It means he misses out on the daily cap but hey   Y has never registered her Oyster card – even though it makes claiming back her work receipts a PITA – because she doesn’t trust the government It’s a total waste of time, because the government can already track her via her smartphone, but she doesn’t realise that (The other reason it’s a waste of time is that she’s not as interesting as she thinks she is)   J, who trusts the government even less, doesn’t have an Oyster card He pays through the nose for his privacy, and he can’t use the buses Mostly he cycles In the new year the cash option is being taken away from the underground, so he won’t be able to use that either Ah well – it’s not like he has to be anywhere   Z leaves his main phone at home and takes the second handset, with the battery and SIM-card removed and taped to the housing He pulls up his hood   On her way to the tills M passes a young man still wearing his green lanyard over his sweater She nods at it, and he takes it off, stuffing it into his bag   L goes through her bank statement while she’s waiting, and thinks about cancelling her union subs – there is less pressure to belong these days, and she has never made use of them, can’t see any reason why she would She just has to get around to telling payroll, because she pays by automatic check-off   Z also pays by automatic check-off He has no problem with his employers knowing he is a member of the union Indeed, it would

Contributor

November 2019

Kaleem Hawa

Contributor

November 2019

Kaleem Hawa has written about art, film, and literature for the New York Review of Books, The Nation, and...

after Mahmoud Darwish    Why is a boy an exclamation,  and why are his dead a period?,  why do his sinews tighten when he sees  a Palestinian body? Does his vision narrow  because of their flight,  or because their world is raining with salt?  Why is a boy with a gun different  from a boy with a jail cell?,  if the tools of rupture are our arms for  repurposing the body, and the arms of  the state are our means of repurposing the male,  are we finally useful and breathing and nervous…?  Does the white mean Night’s arrival?,  or does night signal the white’s escape?,  and when that white city boy becomes  a White City man,  does the hate in his heart subside?,  or does it become an ellipses,  a Bauhaus history of stories started  and left unfinished 
You Arrive at A White Checkpoint and Emerge Unscathed

Prize Entry

November 2019

Kaleem Hawa


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poetry

December 2011

The Pitch

Minashita Kiriu

TR. Jeffrey Angles

poetry

December 2011

Dripping excitedly from my earlobes And falling over my crowded routines A rain of Lucretius’ atoms Is just beginning...

poetry

October 2015

Two Poems

Robert Herbert McClean

poetry

October 2015

Another Autumn Journal Chaos (AKA Do Not Put This to Music Because You’re How Fish Put Up a Fight)...

Interview

May 2015

Interview with Catherine Lacey

Will Chancellor

Interview

May 2015

Catherine Lacey is a writer who came to New York by way of Tupelo, Mississippi. She is a New...

 

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