—an exaltation of Igbos
People do not know what to make of me. My eyes bagging the baggage of my lives know that my nose flows from those of my kith and...
Southern pride, pride in southern toughness or roughness, is not something I know, not really, though I grew up here and I ran away from here when I was a teen...
I’d seen her for months in my Oakland hills neighborhood. In her ill-fitting reflective safety vest near Safeway where I bought the Lunchables my two children ...
Of course there is a right way to grieve. That is to carry your solemn soul tucked deep inside, to smile when smiling is called for, to keep the tears unspille...
On Monday my mother took her drugs to navigate the maze. To light the way she lit up one filtered cigarette—slims, 100s, menthols, whatever was on sale—and the...
The first time I see the little girl, she is in a photograph. A closed room, a field medical tent on an American military outpost in a dusty farming village. C...
Between May 31st and August 18th of 2019, a photograph hangs on the wall of The Morgan as part of an exhibit on crowds and groups and proximal strangers. Black...
At first light there is a world in my ribcage. I fasten it shut with a clink and throw away the key. I’ll use it another time, I say to myself.
I ponder vib...
Our neighbor stops over to say goodbye. His family has been renting the farmhouse next to our white summer cottage here in Maine.
Although we haven’t met, I...
I.
“Chinese people eat monkey brains. They cut their heads open and eat them while the monkeys are still alive.” The girl’s eyes are bright with spite. She ...
