Nicolas Hyacinthe’s “Hard Edges & Soft Embraces”
Nicolas Hyacinthe is of two cultures, countries, and languages. Every day he straddles the vast chasm within these identities. His story isn’t unique of the Haitian diaspora, but his perspective is. Photography and film are bridges that allow him to navigate from his world to ours. Hard Edges & Soft Embraces is a multi-media meditation on returning home to Haiti… Read more →
Snapshots of the Haus of Glitter’s Practices, Performance, & Petition
We often forget the vitality of breath, of true togetherness, and conscious reflection, which is why The Haus of Glitter Dance Company’s “Decolonizing Creative Practice: Defensiveness Retreat” on March 18th, 2023 and March 25th, 2023 (in cooperation with The School of Embodied Praxis) came as a divine blessing. The Haus of Glitter Dance Company (based in Providence, RI) works, through… Read more →
Self-Portrait in Church
You sing these hymnals to escape and yet,they still cut your mouth, a prayer bursting your palms open, communion soon,just words across more bruised mouths, fragile wicks unlearning the flameof these psalms and purging lungs of this decaying light: listen, at the altar,your own dry bones and the husk of a shadow sing.
Regardless of Disaster
Seconds caught themselves in the burningtire marks of my sister’s car, where in the stretching scare, I was a teenager and collected the last words of all the writers I had read, practicing: “I should say somethingclever.” My sister’s widening smile before the metal pressed our bodies into the dashboard and steering wheel. The seconds met us, concussed.Safe and on… Read more →
Fetal Swallows
Wintered, withered fruit fromconcrete patio; half-shadowed,shaped as the illusory top halfof a molded, mummified bird.Fitting and molting into hot palmsof Florida sun and curiosity.Blackened slick of first lookfeathers. An infertile fruitcurled with womb-death.
fudge covered rape story
In Georgia the land is stubborn. It refuses to surrender to the water, spatters out roots and roads and patches of reedy grass for bodylengths into the shallows before it finally gives way. Either this, or the water is stubborn: crawling out hollows in this breathing fossil, Georgia, who makes itself from the millimeters left. Billboards for pralines made fresh… Read more →
The Door is Open. Go.
after Louise Erdrich what are we but star-fucked cell dust balancing on an imaginary line between life & death. h a u n t e d by homes with withered roots; wasp-infested tree houses because we left our apple cores to soften in the heat of summer to sweeten & ferment. i have a ghost occupying my bathroom & on… Read more →
Warning Bell
He Tells Me That Would Never Happen
When it happens,it happens into doorstepsleading to another chamberof the throat Last words laughing,their sets of keys janglingas I try kicking down the doorto their empty, empty rooms.