Mrs. Delores Bennett, Patron Saint of the North End

i was a young nonprofit executive completely full of myself. she came into my office rattled off a list of to do’s so fast it made my head spin. i thought i was smart. i thought i was caring. i thought i understood what working for the people meant…then i met Mrs. Delores Bennett. she…

gravitational collapse or a star is born

reluctantly schooled in the art of fragile male care she is undone by the smallness of a life given over to dishes laundry and the incessant lego shuffle with infantile steps she unclothes the first layer of subjugation not yet naked she begins to see a glimmer of who she might have been had she…

a memory: untitled

are you sisters dancers, an innocent enough inquiry and had we the decency of dancers we may have left him his dignity in response indecency, however, is the occupation of poets so we in synchronized sonnet pounced dripping iambic pentameter across his abdomen like a procession of candle wax our minds weapons of mass destruction…

for my sistren, a poem

we were magnificence woman warriors armed with words piercing souls healing our own babes in tow men in awe imperfect with our flaws spewing necessary vulnerabilities a revolution in our bosom nectar sipping goddesses shat stereotypes spake stories over rip whiskey and dangling cigars sisters in arms poets, we are.  

on holding space for single mothers at the end of their rope

“ms. o, get your boy! cause i’m three minutes off his ass!” she came huffing and puffing into my office not because she had just walked up three flights of stairs but because she had just chased her 15 year old from out of the bathroom and into his classroom. “i’m gon kill him! i swear…

i can see the elephants from here

i love the circus. and when i say i love the circus i mean i love it! i love the clowns i love the acrobats. i love the tight rope walkers. i love Love LOVE the ringmaster. I LOVE THE CIRCUS! whenever the circus is in town i’d go. i’d get ‘not quite front row’…