It knows the value in the discarded, knows the drama of the search.
You’re what the white folks hate, the races mixing, and the girl knows better.
The flash form often invites me to use what I call a communal or a collective voice.
On the Fourth of July, I convinced myself there was hope.
I think now, in this time of violence and protest, of what Steve Cannon would say about the madness of some and the resolve of others.
