PRAGYA AGARWAL recommends a collection of drawings that explore the relation of indigenous people to the land in south Asia, Africa and the Caribbean
Latest editorial
Eras end and begin together
Treading common ground at a time of loss and gain
ALT-COUNTRY EXCELLENCE: Naomi Bedford and Paul Simmonds
CHRIS SEALE speaks to Palestinian sound artist BINT MBAREH
MARY CONWAY applauds a brave and timely two hander that explores the difference between intimacy and abuse
ANDY HEDGECOCK and MARIA DUARTE review The Thing with Feathers, Train Dreams, Sisu: Road to Revenge, and Wicked: For Good
GUILLERMO THOMAS welcomes a biography of WA Domingo, a key figure in the anti-colonial struggle in the Caribbean
BRENT CUTLER is intrigued by the imperialist, supremacist and contradictory history of a word that is used all too easily
Sorry to miss my last column. It was my brother’s funeral. He was 29 years older than me, elder son of our father, who was born in 1899. I wrote this poem for his funeral and decided to share it with you.
My Brother, Uncle Don
End of an era. Goodbye ‘Uncle Don’.
I’ve known you all my life, and now you’re gone.
My parents said that’s what I should call you
When I was three and you were thirty-two
But soon I said, ‘Mum, “Uncle’s” just polite.
Don’s not my uncle. He’s my brother, right?’
So this precocious kid just called you Don —
For over fifty years, and now you’re gone.
Similar stories
The bard mourns the loss of comrades and troubadours, and looks for consolation with Black Country Jess
Given the global plague of Agent Orange, the bard channels his energy into community self-help
The bard ditches an unspecial relationship, encounters a new subdivision of metal, and discovers the cure for a stiff neck
The bard tunes into the message crooned by the newly self-appointed masters of the universe