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Suzannah Gilman

I'm a Gloria Siren, a licensed attorney, and a mother of four adults. I own my own tools, drive a stick shift, am quite fond of my Old Country Roses china, can do the NY Times Crossword every day of the week, and am told I'm "high-maintenance." Whatever. I'm an experienced traveler who can navigate through airport security faster than George Clooney's character in "Up in the Air" (2009).

Front Seat

by Suzannah Gilman   My mother’s mother lies on this bed. She sways her head and mumbles, eyes blank as buttons. I hold her hand, recite The Lord’s Prayer, which she taught […]

I call. You’re stone. / One day you’ll look and find I’m gone. – Poetry of the Pashtun Women

[The landays] lilt internally from word to word in a kind of two-line lullaby that belies the sharpness of their content, which is distinctive not only for its beauty, bawdiness, and wit, but also for the piercing ability to articulate a common truth about war, separation, homeland, grief, or love… the couplets express a collective fury, a lament, an earthy joke, a love of home, a longing for the end of separation, a call to arms, all of which frustrate any facile image of a Pashtun woman as nothing but a mute ghost beneath a blue burqa.