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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,...

They seek out the confused, the timid, the lazy   Are you still feeling frightened? they ask, mock concern on their faces After all this time? Really! How can that be?   Get a grip, they cry If only you could just make up your mind! This indecision can’t go on forever, you know   Channel that introspection into strategy, is our advice Your goals will be your stepping stones to greatness   There’s no room for uncertainty now Just pick an objective Follow the necessary path to realise your ambition We will be here to guide you   The lost ones scour their bedrooms, their cupboards, their gardens, for an idea or a clue: anything that might have weight, have longevity   That? That’s your ambition? You can’t be serious!   The lost ones bow their heads in shame and recognition   *   I cross the city to see my mentor in the area where he lives I have to travel east to west, going past the institute and taking another bus out further still It is an ordeal I once queried this arrangement, but it was not possible to change what we had agreed in the past   Today we are meeting in a park It is an unreal summer day, hazy at the edges so that the appearance of things cannot be trusted I can’t shake the feeling that the children who hang off the climbing frame are fakes The racket of their voices is like a cloud that casts a quick shadow over a garden, appearing near and far away at the same time Their noise seems to waver in the air, like it is unconnected to their bodies, a time delay between the movement of their mouths and the release of their garbled words The parents who sit on the benches observing, hands spread defensively on their laps, are probably fakes too   The banners don’t help Around the perimeter of the park, they are strung up, sagging in places, showing the warped faces of familiar-looking children and parents, but more attractive, more ecstatic They play tennis, run and hug They laugh, mouths open to show substantial white teeth The foliage they pose in

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


READ NEXT

fiction

April 2013

The Taxidermist

Olivia Heal

fiction

April 2013

I did not want to walk. The day was dull. But imperative or impulsion pushed me out, onto the...

Prize Entry

April 2017

A JOURNEY THROUGH ☆ FAMOUS ☆ BY ♫ 'KANYE WEST' ♫

Liam Cagney

Prize Entry

April 2017

A twilit bedroom. Silence. Ceiling view of the base of a hyper-extended bed—the length of a catwalk. Slow pan...

fiction

Issue No. 14

Beetle

Joanna Kavenna

fiction

Issue No. 14

SKITAFLIT, DAY 49   704 Dawn Breaks above the grey-dusted grey-fronted houses 903 Well the office is looking just...

 

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