O is for Orphan
It seems that the sea is home after all. I labored on the churning brine since boyhood, hauling in the bulging nets, scraping my hands on the antiquated equipment, lulled to sleep by the...
Tagged: identity
Is It Too Late To Change My Name
Life Poem I always knew something was off. The shoe never fit. When friends approached the answering machine message to leave one after the beep never rang a bell. I addressed them with a...
POC Problems
Spoken Word Every person of color’s favorite question to be asked is: “What are you?” “WHAT am I?” Well, I can be whatever you want me to be, baby. Nah, let me tell...
2 Poems On Identity
Poems on Identity Codeine Identity Crisis What shall I call myself? Perhaps I am a blessing distributed drip by drip by drip to cozied cups clutched within infinitely curling fingers. Or better yet I...
