Fiction and Poetry
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…
I sang lullabies with eyes stitched shut, my voice a cage, a shackle wrapped in…
