the filthy-bearded man greets me
at six a.m., looking for a friend
he speaks gibberish, not knowing
where he is, how he arrived
at my steps, as i step back
he’s unmasked, skinny like an
old, crusted scarecrow with
scared eyes and smeared jeans
Continue readinga Black man has been slaughtered, again
shot like a dog, in front of family
did you see? it was broadcast
to millions of eyeballs
he suffered from bipolar
a disorder i share with this
now-deceased man
Continue readingi was careless with feelings
in my youth –
wolfing from bed to bed
only staying long enough to
get what i relished,
receding into ink-black nights
like a haunting, feeling guilty
but rationalizing
Continue readingin halls of power,
they sit in towers
away from us
on ground level –
high in clouds
sunlight is pure
not so for poor &
weary travelers
Continue readingThere are ghosts in my family –
I realize this as my mother tells tales
of a biological grandfather I never knew
who blew smoke in my face
when I was two
of years my father spent in jail
of anxiety that permeates
the family tree, which is
diseased & hollowed
about to crumple & topple
into grayish dirt
(Photo by Dikaseva on Unsplash)
