What does it mean to be an Immigrant? Only if you are one, you will really know. For most of us it is a challenging journey, even if you have landed well.
The Immigrant Insight: How important is language? Read More »
When I birthed my second daughter, the doctors insisted I push instead of jumping straight to a C-section as we had done seven years ago with the first.
“You didn’t wash your car,” she declares as I pull up to the curb where she is waiting, tapping her cane.
Is it a roofing nail? Its
point meant to fill
a cervix. Later, with legs
splayed to lock it in
“Stoppers” “Little Alien” & “Toys” Read More »
Here, for a transitory period, existence questioned sometimes,
I make you seen, an invisible pain killing me.
“I Am You”, “Chimes of a Bell”, “She Walked Away” & “An Undying Suffering” Read More »
The streets were barren at 3:00 a.m. Up and down the main drag, the bars had all let out. She meandered in a sleepy stupor, bags beneath her eyes slipping off her cheeks. One could say she presented drunkenness.
After the Bars Let Out Read More »
Dad is black
Black as tar
And then some more
He’s not a slave
But who can tell for sure
Cause he’s black
Sometimes blacker
Than a moonless night
“That’s seven. And eight,” I said. “Two in a row!” “The next stop is a few miles,” my father said. I was no longer a child, but I felt like one on that drive.
I don’t think I’ve ever bought Jamaica flowers on my own. I always take some from home, the bright buds clinging to a plastic bag. As a kid, I didn’t even know the small, red pieces came from a flower. It was in the kitchen, nestled amidst spices, so it was more like an ingredient
