Ode to the Analog Age
Praise the newspaper tossed each morning by a boy on a bicycle, ink of newsprint, thinness of paper.
Praise phone booths where we waited in line and paid...
I Was SilentTW: Sexual Assault
At least three Long IslandsI thought I could hangHe was such a gentlemanWalking me homeMemories are only in fragments
The officer...
The divorce.
The final chapter of
our union
tells of bone deep chagrin-
the dumb utter of
'I feel statements'
plays itself like a mantra,
useless invocations found
in the crumpled leaflets
from...
These poems are published connected to the partnership between the Mid-Atlantic Review and Howard University and a recent event for the Howard community.
Broke Tin Pan Alley
Hitchcock...
