art in words or pictures or whatever from chosen is so important to our well-being and our growth as persyns in a fucked up oppressive world. often the stories that are told are stories by white, straight cis men. those are not stories that have inspired me. rather it is the stories of those who have gone through shit that have pushed me to want to express myself. I begin this poetry blog with the memories of all my writer ancestors: audre lorde, Octavia Butler, Gloria Anzaldua and all the others; never forgetting the countless who never made their work public.
I’ll be trying to post a poem a day… will start of with a couple lines from akasha hill
“whether we speak or not,
the machine will crush us to bits
and we will also