I Want to Be a poet. But Not One of Those ‘Black poets.’

“I want to be a poet. But not one of those “black poets,” I jotted down on a piece of paper. This idea of not wanting to be a “black


You sing sin and drink gin and insert it in in the back slow before the rice rain and the ring – I rap songs and sniff snow and take

A Burning City

My phone rang, it was a west coast friend “Are you ok? I’m watching CNN and I see that your city is burning down” I replied “Burning? Wow,” sarcastic tone She asked, “Are

Missing You

The fire fighters stormed onto our block, extending their ladders They ripped off the wig of your home, I wish they moved faster Cracked open both bedroom windows, the flames reached a crescendo

Only in America

White privilege can save you where God can’t Only in America Ya brethren ain’t ya brethren no more They say heaven ain’t Heaven no more We cling to clouds, we

Black. Blood. Drips.

Black. blood. drips. on the concrete Staining generations That one lone sneaker loses its foot when bullets whack domes For ages we’ve dodged hammers like wack-a-mole Holy garments that weren’t


Where is paradise for us? Should we treasure harvest on the other side? Is our treasure not here? Do we love the mud because of the harvest is has, Although

Grandma Taught Me

Following my birth, on June 3, 1993, Grandma took a moral obligation to adopt me with hopes of creating a cutting edge lane for the betterment of my future. She

Broken Heirlooms

I remember vividly, I was sitting on the living room floor playing Donkey Kong on my Gameboy Color, while eating a slice of pizza. Grandma was sitting in her single

Another Motherless Mother’s Day…

I got bent the night before Mother’s Day, hoping that I’d drunk-sleep through it all. It didn’t happen, and I spent another day surrounded by “holiday” gestures that I don’t

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