“It Wasn’t Until” by Renee Lake
I have two daughters, both over the age of five. I never expected to raise boys . . .
I have two daughters, both over the age of five. I never expected to raise boys . . .
You could tell by the way that they cleaned the guns that they’d been taught by the same person . . .
“Your first body?” “Dead one, yeah.”
To celebrate the release of New-Generation African Poets (Tatu), a new limited-edition chapbook box set, we’re pleased to feature the introduction from editors Kwame Dawes and Chris Abani.
Join Kaylie Jones and Matthew McGevna for the launch of their new books @ BookCourt on Mon., 6/15!
I didn’t notice I had nodded out on the train and had missed my stop until the conductor clamped down on my bony shoulders in Wellington, saying, “Come on, honey . . .”
We’re in the elevator and Jancy is climbing up the metal wall, using my knee as a stepladder. “Look Mom, I’m rappelling,” she says, bouncing up and down on my thigh.
I want to yell at her but I need her like this . . .