Fiction and Poetry
You hate the policeman two blocks away from your house, but you want to be…
Life’s Daunting Stare Sometimes, life’s malicious stare can be daunting And grievous— Taking away our…
There’s a way the men at the lounge stare at you that makes you come…
Knitting Grief I ask the words of my grief to loosen and become. I tell…
Something About Beauty Is Broken in the face of dark things, a boy stands there…
There is a woman —her voice dragged across the wet belly of Mokwa — mourning…
There are some faces that fade into oblivion. You forget them; their structures, their voices,…
Some days you get so horny you feel like you’re gonna die. It’s 4:15 am…
In my sleep, I saw the family tree, men with waterproof bodies engulfed in the…
The first time I visited Uncle Idris’s mansion was with my mother. She was wearing…