Entering Korea’s Demilitarized Zone, in the unlikely town of Nottingham.

Trailing a religious fighter in an Iraqi province where ISIS is an existential threat, looking to learn what drives men and women to take bullets for one another.

On a trip to Yangon, genocide lurks just out of view.

Either way, the fact that she thinks I’m the Norse god, Loki, is a bit troubling. Primarily because I am the Norse god, Loki, and that’s not something I’ve been looking to feature here on Earth.

We kept the kills quiet / amid rows of pale clover

Another horrendous silence descends. Baz’s eyes are screaming at me. This, just this simple social awkwardness, is his nightmare. I’ve seen him all but pass out in similar circumstances.

listen, the ache of a sister for a brother / isn’t obvious

The dog raced down the last few meters of the autostrada and jumped over the guardrail and ditch. Then he jumped on her—all forty stinking kilos of him.

We used to think that refugees / were of one kind / and we never knew / that we were too.

In an age where mass shootings can transform malls or classrooms into war-zones, teachers are getting new training: combat vigilance.

we believe in ourselves / more than we believe in anything else