“some part of melived here beforereincarnated ancestorsgive me breathurge me—live again” bell hooks In December, we lost the free Black girl, bell hooks. Daughter of Kentucky, Scholar-Poet, Lover of Black people, poor people (see: Where We Stand: Class Matters), country people, and all people. Anarchist, Womanist (see: Ain’t I a Woman), and Youthful...
Eight months into the pandemic, we’re trying to find a new use for this blank time, how we can make music of our being here inside, separated, but still together. But here is a fraught word these days. COVID-19 is still here to stay, but hundreds of thousands of our loved ones aren’t anymore. Many of us arrived here overnight, suddenly suffering from...
________and somehow, we are boys again________but this time, i allow myself to love them with my skin off their shoulder is a marronage,and i resile all the mannish hauntingsthat had us caught upgot us fucked upkept us locked upand lost to one another ___________________we sat this close a million times before___________________but still, i feel nervous to lean into...