About last night (a poetic)

Legs twined. Our fingers climbed each other through the night. Scarves undone. My locks tangled yours Little brown vines. Inhale the moment Before memory wakes us – We are supposed to be angry About something Inconsequential. We use eggshelled silence To mask the sleep in our step. Courteous and unremarkable We play at passive anger…

To the Lyft Driver that Fucked Up

Maybe it started as an accident when you decided to tell two teachers that “those kids can’t learn, and they’re all from southeast. I hate to say it, but they just can’t learn.” Maybe what you meant was that the way the system is set up, institutional we make it harder for them to learn, we have created…

the hypocrite stage

I can’t say I’m a fan of spiteful writing, yet we are all entitled to a moment of passive aggression and I’ve lately seen too much not to want to just “put it out there.” So, after some days of debate and in lieu of something more personal and abstract to the audience at large…