I have been trying to write about this for the past couple days and can’t seem to package this grief as coherently as I would like. Something about it feels like an undoing past the point of already being undone. Headlines, led by the white gaze, full of the latest…

There is a responsibility to naming. A sacredness usually reserved, at first, to those that brought us into the world. But before that happens we are born title-less. I am sure of it. We are scrunched up infants that are some sort of something that is nothing until it is…

I am shirtless on my porch. Double-fisting mugs of tea in this summer swelter. Determined. I have built up a well of unshed tears and sweating seems to be the least painful way (if it even works like that) to rid my body of this excess of fluid. I do…

*I thought I had more time to say goodbye. So I wrote and addressed this to Sheila Roberts-Veatch to read while she was alive. I wish we had more years and I am profoundly thankful for the ones we had. Since she died before this could reach her, I am…

There is not enough time in the day to write all of the eulogies that need to be written. But at least let me write my own just in case they kill me before I’m ready. They meaning the state, most specifically, the police. …

when they call us dead before we die but our hearts are still beating where do we go if not the grave / in minds underground. foundation. …

I had another voice before this. I believe it to be true. Somewhere in some womb, forever unknown to me, I heard a mother-tongue calling. But that was in another life I barely remember. A life briefly lived where I stayed. I mean, I was kept and I was not…

If I wrote the piece I am scared to write it would go something like this: I was adopted into a white family that claimed they had unconditional love. I was brought up in white communities and even lived in Oregon, founded to be a white utopia, for a brief…

I love you. I need you to know that before I begin. Because this is painful and I am asking us to step into the hard with no real direction out. This is not goodbye. At least it does not have to be. This…