TAYO Literary Magazine"For our culture, by our culture."tayoliterarymag@gmail.com
Creative Non-Fiction
“Simon Says” by Sean Labrador y Manzano
Share “Simon Says” by Sean Labrador y Manzano Pokai Bay is for locals, desolate on weekends. It is West of Pearl Harbor meaning West of Honolulu meaning West of tourism and service industry expectations. Meaning West of circling for vacant parking. West of the hawkers merchandising relics. Meaning tour busses dare not stop here. Pokai [...]
“Limahong’s 3000″ by Sean Labrador y Manzano
Share “Limahong’s 3000″ by Sean Labrador y Manzano “I am not Chinese!” The pirate ambition aside, he barely passes the “look test,” that residue of fair Guangdong or Fukien almost prevents his passage. Apong Pio is not exactly my grandfather. He is the only “grandfather” I know. Pio is my grandfather’s youngest brother, exported to [...]
“Wearing Tsinelas” an essay by Francesca Gacho
Share “Wearing Tsinelas” by Francesca Gacho Native Americans have the moccasins. The cowboys have the boots. For Filipinos, we have the tsinelas. The word tsinelas is derived from the Spanish word “chinela” meaning slippers or sandals. Tsinelas are humble things. Often referred to as “flip-flops,” “sandals,” or “zories,” tsinelas are basic footwear made of leather [...]
“A Twisted New Thread” an essay by Cynthia Vasallo
Share “A Twisted New Thread” by Cynthia Vasallo In trying to tell me their story, the only thing my parents could agree on was that they both had a strong difference of opinion. According to my father, he always knew which direction he wanted to go. It wasn’t a difficult decision for him to leave [...]
“Flowers, etc.” an essay by Bonne Marie Bautista
Share “Flowers, etc.” by Bonne Marie Bautista I was told that when I was a toddler, my feet never touched the floor. The firstborn child, niece, granddaughter, the first Bautista born in America, my aunts, uncles and grandfather fought over me. I lived in their arms, my chubby cheeks rosy from being pinched and kissed. [...]
“Language First, Food Last” by Joy Regullano
Share Language First, Food Last, an essay by Joy Regullano On Saturday afternoons, we would eat salted dried fish so crisp you can eat the bones. The smell of tuyo was so strong my dad had to fry it outside. I loved the little dilis that I could scoop into my mouth and eat with [...]
SOCIAL MEDIA
