fifth Quarter

These dreams, these fiends, these tweens and cut scenes,
Expectations of momentum and necessities of a spleen.

These winter Monday’s in June are reminiscent of a fifth quarter.
Should I slay myself again or ask a bigger God to expand my borders?

These sorrowed nights and broken glass and drafts from underneath,
Give greater cause to perpetuate and strive for more than just to be.

Oh, these falls, these stalls, these empty halls and caterwauls,
Apprehension’s got me hopeful, while my bladder has the gall.

please don’t talk about Sudan while I’m eating

What if Trump lost the 2020 election, but rather than concede the office to his predecessor, he ordered the military to defend his post in the White House. All of his political opposers and those who sought to physically remove him were detained, assaulted, humiliated, raped or murdered. Sounds crazy, right? We’d have a global human rights issue on our hands. Well, it’s not a “what if” nor is it a Netflix movie. It’s happening right now in Sudan.

the truth about Juneteenth

June 19, 1865, the news was delivered that slavery was over. Hallelujah! Freedom at last! The problem is there was a bit of a delay. Two years, in fact, since President Abraham Lincoln had signed the executive order of the Emancipation Proclamation. Talk about showing up late for the party.

when they (don’t) see us

Typically indulging in any type of entertainment — be it music, books, sports or television — is a form of escape. Work, school, bills and the doldrums of the day are temporarily put aside to occupy a different space of thought and experience. Watching an emotionally heavy mini-series about how our justice system failed five teenagers is probably not most people’s idea of a good time.

When They See Us is a four-part Netflix mini-series which chronicles the horrific, true story of the Central Park Five case of 1989 where five teenagers were accused and wrongfully convicted of the rape and assault of a female jogger. The series is presented from the perspective of these boys whose lives were upended by a miscarriage of justice and the viewer is left wondering, “What if all boys were created equal?”

since 1970 (an open letter to my friends)

Dearest and beloved, it’s been a matter of busied hours and circumstance for which I have not been able to communicate as succinct as I would have preferred, but inevitable destiny abounds as this transmission reaches you now. Know this. Your existence coupled with your presence means a lot to me. Your availability and support humble me. You mean more than you can know and I’m thankful you are here.

expiring soon: Her rights

So far this year, eight states have passed bills to limit or criminalize a woman’s right to abortion. At this rate, we’re very quickly headed back to a time when “a woman and a Negro knew their place.”

memorial day

Remember anticipating Spring and the life it would avail?
The baby birds, innocent words, and how clouds could grow a tail?
Remember the smell of honeysuckle while the earth was dark and moist
And the ice cream truck peddling its wares reminded us we had a choice?

boy meets God

Once upon a time, there was a young boy whose name was… well, let’s see.
To protect the innocent, we’ll address young Kenn discreet and anonymously.
So this shy, young boy who lacked no love, grew up in a loveless town.
Shy though spry with a detailed eye his imagination knew no bounds.

Then teenage years and the furlough of tears and more than his share of rage,
Young Boy departed from Nadine and pristine to work where sin offered wage.