Liyana Dizzy & Tria Aziz are headlining If Walls Could Talk vol. 21

And Biawak Gemok will be there too to sell some zines from RM5-10! Here’s the flyer for you to share and the link to the Facebook events page. Where I'll be next Thursday. (Also where my headspace is at right now, if not @bahayabookclub). RT and come! pic.twitter.com/MwLCGecw2j — shark wasangka (@liy) August 2, 2016 This…

Biawak Gemok listed in an Insider Guide on The Guardian

Nine texted me in all caps when she found out our zine distro received a shoutout in Sze Ying Goh’s Insider’s Guide to Kuala Lumpur! Sze records the ambient sounds of Devi’s in Bangsar, lists her favourite building (PJ Trade Centre), venue (Wisma Central in Ampang), Instagram account (it’s @designarkib!), homegrown talent (artist Engku Iman), and more. Clicking…

“I try not to dwell in small places after a hunt”

I try not to dwell in small places after a hunt, Or for long anywhere these days; any moment, any space if reckless, permits your scent’s return Like a cat expecting dinner after a long adventure, Coolly curled at the door, the ledge, scratching sometimes As if it knows I’ve been fishing— but I will…

Biawak Gemok is in Time Out KL’s reading special

Nadia Rosli of Time Out KL featured our lil zine distro in Time Out KL’s special books issue (May 2016). Nine and I also recommend some of our favourite zines. Three questions with Biawak Gemok by Nadia Rosli Biawak Gemok Distro sells zines (small, self-published magazines) – specifically, zines concerning social issues like LGBTQ and religion. We speak…

“I used to pray”

I used to pray for the ability to remember. You see, my grandmother turned out best at forgetting. and I remember late nights where she would call out to her husband to come to bed so she could sleep when he had been in the earth for years the details of his death were eased…

Breakfast

After years of international cement cravings lighting up the maps I need to pay way too much at my neighbourhood supermarket if I want to graze nutrition from ancient ancestral authentic super foods, more whole than my soul My wallet sympathies are not aligned to this diet can’t do quinoa breakfasts at sunrise flown in…

“It may be winter where you are”

It may be winter where you are, my love But it’s spring and summer in our Tropical hearts all day long Far too far apart We are, far too far apart How many letters could we place between us What kind of Puteri Gunung Ledang bridge Could we build, interrupting continents With just basic rambles…

“We, the screensomniac survivors”

The trauma of the bedtime stories of the captains of our industrial past of their touch on our timelines of the ways they flourished from deception to be 21st century standards and role models is the fuel we burn we, the screensomniac survivors placed here with missions from broken people who became parents, question every…

“You would have to be as thick as my Nusantara thighs”

The very idea of coddling that croaking old canard xxxxxxxx the slave-encrusted crowd of crusty colonial capitalism Ha! You would have to be as thick as my Nusantara thighs. Those dudes came for the spices and stayed for the kick of being living antonyms to savages Now we surf and smoke their cigarettes inhaling the…

“Anyone who says they haven’t run a red light”

Anyone who says they haven’t run a red light for the possibility of good sex is either too young to drive or smart enough to avoid mixing pleasure with danger even though it is the most heady cocktail next to booze or cigarettes Either way, they’re probably someone I don’t know very well because I…

The Gerai will be at Next Door @ Publika

After opening #GeraiPuisiSegera booths in Penang and Ipoh, I’ll be writing instant poetry by donation back in KL on the weekends of 21-22 November and 12-13 December at White Box, Publika, from 2pm to 4pm. I’ll be sending the typewriter for a quick check-up this week, so hopefully you’ll be able to hear me typing away before…

“Ten years or more of timelines”

Ten years or more of timelines Where my life breathes in between measured by deadlines labelled workaholic, my compass points to a north that swings wildly in the cold blue laptop reflection of my eyes When I lie down, the idea of salaries are defibrillators to this body in rest In this rigid ruler life…