“I Be from The Bronx”

    I be from cold yellow snow and hot okra gumbo, Born of Father from Morningside Avenue, Mother of Charleston. As beat and breath, I dwell at 145th and Amsterdam, the school on the hill, the hills, hollows, and holiness of Harlem, Fish Fry Fridays, handholding walking to school. Five flight walk-up in-labor Mother…

NaPoWriMo, Day 27, “Write from a Photo”

    They are learning and learned. Each takes to table task of touching Fringes, folly with guesses, risk standing And falling to study more. Maceo is coaching Legs to lock and step to follow older brother, Monitor and grab and taste objects he puts down, Decipher then render them into his tools. Older brother…