functional essayist. dysfunctional poet. mumtazamehri@gmail.com. subscribe to my newsletter: bynoway.substack.com.
A Cage, Afloat
On I May Destroy You, Authorial Selves & Regimes of Relatability
Poets should ride the bus: on Diane di Prima (1934-2020)
The poet Diane di Prima died at the age of 86 on the 25th October. A celebrated writer and political activist, her work included the much-celebrated Revolutionary Letters. Here, Momtaza Mehri reflects on di Prima's work and legacy.
Dispatches from the Black Gulf
On miasmic history, Arabic art and the possibility of a common language. For The Poetry Review.
Manchester Writing Competition 2019 winners revealed as Momtaza Mehri and Tim Etchells
Manchester Writing Competition 2019 Winning Poems.
The Ballad of the Blade
How should we respond to the moral panic generated by the current wave of youth crime? How does it feel to live in a world where that's normal?
Harlem Is Hijaz Is Havana Is Harar, Or: The Whole Point of the Black Arts Movement Is That They Were Moving
“We will scream and cry, murder, run through the streets in agony, if it means some soul will be moved, moved to actual life understanding of what the world is, and what it ought to be.”
— Amiri Baraka
On Pop & Petroleum
On Arab pop, Saudi princes, soft power and the scam that is pan-Arab media.
Mundane Travels
On the time-travelling poetics of Vince Staples, Moor Mother, South African art and what we leave behind to get ahead.
On Noise & Networks
On resilience, noise and the networked feminisms of #MeToo + beyond.
Salve to Exile: On Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf’s memory work
A review of Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf's The Sea-Migrations/Tahriib (translated by Clare Pollard, with Said Jama Hussein and Maxamed Xasan ‘Alto’).
Theorems of Separation
Perhaps we need to face the terrifying and overwhelming possibility that there are no models, that we shall have to create from scratch.
— Toni Cade Bambara, On The Issue of Roles (1969)
First column as Columnist-in-Residence for San Francisco Museum of Modern Art's Open Space. On Pasolini, Kanye, Azealia Banks and our own degrees of separation from artists vs their art.