Posts
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The Most Tragic Death
The ground
Beneath us
Trembles in fear
The future is
Dark
The ending is
Near
The trees
Around us
Shrivel in fright
They cannot
Stand
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The Night is Crying
Patter, patter, boom
The sky is torn and shredded
The night is crying
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Most Likely
Most likely to
Trip
While sitting down
Most likely to
Speak
Without making a sound
Most likely to
Laugh
So nobody cries
Loves
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I Fell in Love With a Pigeon
He flew into my life on a Tuesday.
All feathers, no job.
Smelled like breadcrumbs and bad decisions.
He coo’d at me like I was the last French fry in a drive-thru bag.
And I believed him.
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What They Call Ghetto, We Call Home
They call it “the hood.”
We call it family.
They call it “ghetto.”
We call it culture.
It’s loud — but it’s home.
The ice cream truck rings at the same time every day.
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