Poetry
-
The Potomac: “hanging is not an option”
i can too easily see myself in sepia— toes reaching for the dirt, empty eyes reflecting the sun, my neck stretched out to greet heaven— i’ve never been taller.
-
District Lit: “we and the metro”
—a neighborhood where his father had calloused his soles on unpaved boulevards, closed off from the world by Southern mentality. the train had brought us back downtown, a re-claim staked at center court.
-
The Voices Project: “On Thin Ice”
The maze of your friends and their thoughts must’ve seemed inconquerable then: it was all too clear how we would crack, Check out my poem at The Voices Project!
-
The Voices Project: “Montreal”
I must’ve dug in too deep, dug my nails in until my heart bled and stained all over your white. Check out my poem at The Voices Project!
The Alvearie 