Feeling Invisible At an Incognito Show

Leaving New York City and approaching the Lincoln Tunnel, there is a large mural with the old adage, “Nothing Is Impossible.” As i stared into the slight gaudiness of the font and semi-bright paint job, i silently disagreed, as at the moment, everything feels impossible.. It begins with night 1 of 2. As a person who used to skateboard and was heavily into skate culture (and particularly loved the Bones Brigade and folks like Steve Olson) primarily in my teens to early/mid 20s, i was excited to attend a conversation/presentation/Q&A with Rodney Mullen and Tony Hawk. On the day of . . .

Spiritual Warfare

Owolabi “Perhaps there is a monstrous origin to it, after all. Perhaps to lay hands on your child is to prepare him for war.”  – Ocean Vuong Part 1 I wrote poems of gratitude to my father.  Poems of honor. Poems imagining survival in Mississippi in the days when the crakkas had free reign over Black bodies.  My ex-wife wondered why? She heard my stories, my heart, and only saw my tears. For years in our marriage, I cried. I processed pain and how his discipline came with fists and belts. I processed silent pain when I didn’t hear the . . .