My poems podcast, Words by Winter, can be found here. Hearing someone use the word “they” when describing a group of people –gay, Black, poor, immigrant, etc.–makes me wary and tired because I know I then have to tilt my head and say When you say ‘they,’ who exactly do you mean? I hate doing this because … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Harryette Mullin
The area around Cup Foods in Minneapolis has become a memorial, and I walked there yesterday from my house, past a smiling man holding up a cardboard sign at 36th and Stevens. Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring any cash.” Man: “You brought your good looks, though.” I laughed and so did he, then we … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Craig Santos Perez
How many times have I been driving in my city and glanced over at the face of a pulled-over-by-an-officer driver? Hundreds. How many of those times has the driver been a person of color? Most of the time. Pulled Over in Short Hills, NJ, 8:00 AM, by Ross Gay It’s the shivering. When rage … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Ross Gay
I’ve sat in silent, exhausted rage around dinner tables listening to men and women argue about rape and which factors that lead up to it are under a woman’s control. Sometimes I leave the room and go into the kitchen to bang my head against a hot stove, because that feels better than listening to … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Langston Hughes
“Live every day like it’s your last because someday you’re going to be right.” “I am America. I am the part you won’t recognize. But get used to me. Black, confident, cocky, my name not yours. My religion, not yours; my goals, my own; get used to me.” “The fight is won or lost far … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Kenneth Rexroth
Goodies from my mailbox and camera
Telling all sides of the parenting story
Waking Up to Your Dreams
On James Baldwin and Diverse Literature
Putting those recalcitrant toddler cancer cells to bed...
your own PDK for writing
a collection of beautiful words.....
Objects, Memory and Meaning
If it can't be said in a hundred words, then it can't be said in a thousand.
sewing a handmade wardrobe
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts on the world around me
Alison McGhee 