Embracing my vulture
Picking from the scraps left from children, from men, food left for no one else Turning it into nourishment for myself, my family Circle...
Pain
She writhes in pain on the bed. We will never know how real it is. The cloud of deception hovers over her like pain dripping from the floor.
colors opening
Spring Year of the Dog So many powerful and pynk and light and blue and dark and every color splattered on the paper, the paper grabbed...
Childhood mystery
Your language is too wild for us. It weaves in and out of current realities that we don’t understand. Your language is too above these...
Riding the waves
We sat there watching the lake waves and remembering the waves we've ridden, tumultuous and sweet, dull and exciting, together. JEO 5.4.16
What we can’t forget
What we can’t forget is Stephon Clark was shot in the back eight times in his own back yard. What we can’t forget is Miguel Perez was...