Inheritances
My brother tells me he wants to save me from the shock of finding out what’s in Ma’s will.
Do you want me to read you what she said?
His phone voice...
To the degree that we as artists prepare the audience to see the world in stereotypes, we perpetuate a society that only knows how to know through separation. Whose identity is it anyway – ours or the audiences? Whose character is it anyway?
These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...
Winter Dream
Time ravishes the line, with glare of colorYou fashion a sky, scarring silenceMoon hoards the light
Scars of strangeLines fashioned into a druma sky...