With his light skin, my great-grandfather evaded a lynching in Little Rock, AR. He who does not illuminate monstrous in cover of night / smuggles a trio of sons / passed burning poplar / passed snapped neck. Bundled flesh freight / secluded in burlap laid across steel truck bed / This fair passage the weight of witness / Devoid of… Read more →
I have a moon inside of me.It’s a rare disease, I know. When I was young, I mistook itfor religion, the way I would glow when my moon was gibbous. I examinedmy illumination in the bathroom mirror while my older sister banged on the locked door.“Mom, she’s taking too long!” she’d complain. I knew I couldn’t explain. Sometimes my moonwould… Read more →
In their native language the elders have taught me how to say, I hear your skin darken. To be that animal is to make godless music with the wave of my tongue, a series of cymbal crashes in the orchestra pit. You stand on the land bridge separating the villages while sliding the edge of a blade upwards along your… Read more →