The above is the title of an epic poem – a lament – penned by our African-American neighbor, Sheila Lamonzs, which I’d cribbed from the Front...
When I wake up I can’t help but not feel fresh Got a bad taste in my breath Because it was not supposed to turn out...
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE, IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE. I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH...