Excerpts
Mama
Special Registration
Nkran
[panther]
These Hands
Wiconi
Island of Misfits
the author to the dead
Beloveds, beneath the surfaceof your last place, the tiny, oblivious fishes form wreaths above the sea grasses& their long reach— Some mornings, in my own city far away,I run to greet “you” come to me as sea, & carry myself out into your long, dark time like a child meetingits older cousins. I touch …
Meditation during the Sufferings and Deaths of Others
I did not deserve to be beaten, and I did not deserve ballet lessons– except insofar as everyone deserves ballet lessons. Me mum thought I was well worth beating. She would not have thought that I deserved to starve. I deserved the milk in her breasts–I had put it there. When I was a baby, …