My Memories are Fading (a poem)

My memories, they are fading
Pictures of old days are rusting
Memories used to be cascading
Now, they are just crusting

Maybe I’m just getting older
And things I’m starting to forget
Old traumas no longer smolder
For my sins, I did repent

Continue reading

Intrusion (flash fiction)

Here’s a piece of flash fiction about intrusive memories and the reliability of our memories. It’s about 620 words and has an estimated reading time of 2 and a half minutes. Let me know what you think!

Continue reading

House-Warming Party (a poem)

Floods of memories slap me
as I walk the neighborhood,
epiphanies connect obscure
stars in my mind’s galaxy –

birds chirp, my feet patter on paths
amid tree-lined streets and greenery
of springtime,
the earth changing, imperceptibly,
preparing to host summer
like a house-warming party –

Continue reading

Unbreakable (a poem)

to say we were lost boys would be cliché

but clichés have ways

of cementing truths into language

like hard red suns that scorched West Philly & warm beers we guzzled ‘till we couldn’t walk straight & time went missing like a thief

who stole my innocence

& we packed into an old sedan on a road to nowhere &

perhaps, if time is not linear, this had to happen &

if free will is a myth, we had no choice in the matter,

merely swigging, smoking, fighting in adolescent wastelands

Continue reading

God’s Polaroid Camera (a poem)

For my father

in the dining room, action figures were imprisoned in a green vase, and you returned from prison with my uncle, looking slimmer

from pushups in sunbaked yards

mustache and dazed look gone, down on one knee, arms open wide & smiling with teeth I learned were fakes

I thought you were fake, too

unrecognizable, a stranger from a blurred past we no longer spoke of, only at grandma’s house, when we opened letters decorated by your brother with cut-outs from Marvel comics

& were told you were away on business –

Continue reading

On Reading Old Books to Escape the Anxieties of 2020

There’s something about old books, especially fiction, that transport me to a world where I feel safe. This has been the case lately, as I’ve jumped into the classics to escape this year’s anxieties.

Continue reading

On Racism and Growing up in the American South

Growing up in the South, you learn from an early age about racism. Our public schools taught from books that The Daughters of the Confederacy bought for schools. Eventually, we read books that actually told some truth.

I remember reading about the Civil Rights movement and its leaders.  I remember learning details about Martin Luther King, Jr.  I remember feeling shame to know he was assassinated in my home state of Tennessee.

Continue reading

Portia’s Extraction (a poem)

Portia is inside my mind

probing my memories

extracting, sorting them

into data –

looking for knowledge

of the virus

the only thing that can

save us from servitude

(Photo by Umberto on Unsplash)

Nostalgia (a poem)

Nostalgia always comes with a bit of bad memory

back in the day, I remember life being calmer

but who’s to say?

My father stumbled in stadium parking lots drunk back in those days

+ I still had depressions that didn’t seem to go away

So what’s so different ’bout back then + the present day?

(Photo by Ajeet Mestry on Unsplash)