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...
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...
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...
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...
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...