“Arab women are a lot like coffee. strong. refreshing. Roasted until nearly burnt and then marketed as bitter. Expected to keep you going when you can’t do it yourself. Mis-used. Under appreciated.” (Yasmeen AlFaraj, University of California, Berkeley @_alfa_ya)
A (brief) introduction to the daily microaggressions faced by black people on campus
Last night I dreamt we were married, our children sprinkled through the yard
like tulips. I know you don’t believe in people creating other people, but my mother
was so hard on me; I want to make a child to wrap in cashmere, kiss
I was in the middle of teaching one afternoon when a man died right outside my classroom door.
(Big-time Spoiler Alert -- if you don’t want to know the plot, don’t read this!)
1. Portrait of Adolescent America
I find America tucked away
inside the lines of my hand,
searching for a safe-space
in a trench of creases /
Close my fist & watch promise
The vaginal dilators I had ordered, per the instructions of my physical therapist, arrived at my apartment in a perfectly normal-looking box, as if they weren’t sold by adamandeve.com, a site that has my eternal gratefulness for coming up as “unspecified merchant” on my bank account statement. I kept them under my bed for two weeks, a reincarnated childhood monster that I waited to go away until I couldn’t stand the guilt of leaving sixty dollars’ worth of a medical device under my bed. I opened the box for the first time.
Taking Back God
I am taking back god
in all lower cases,
scattering it like seed in a field,
picking its berries of light
from the night sky,
Welcome to a New Year! In January, we push ourselves to resolve new paths and fresh ways of doing things. This could mean anything, from going for a run every once in a while, to picking up our journals and meditating on each day. It could be reconnecting with an old friend, or finally getting yourself out of a toxic relationship that has been bringing you down for years. For me, this means a 7th attempt in just as many months to give up eating pizza in my clean sheets. It’s getting out of hand.