SELECTED WRITING FOR PERFORMANCE AND PUBLICATION
THE JOURNEY
“Don’t move too much,” she said. “You’ll only feel the first pinch.”
“The Journey.” Saya Woolfalk: Field Notes From the Empathic Universe,
edited by Tricia Laughlin Bloom. The Newark Museum of Art, 2022
Filed under:
dirt
edited by Tricia Laughlin Bloom. The Newark Museum of Art, 2022
Filed under:
dirt
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ODETTA CONJURES BASS REEVES
Imagine up the law who always brought in the wanted, alive rather than dead.
A fabulous law, a fabulous law to the end.
LOU WALKER ROAD
Lou Walker Road wasnt long enough. It wasnt paved. A simple ginger-tinted dust track, formed by wheels and horse hooves traveling to and from the brick house my father built on bargain land in 1933, dead-ended at a patch of woods where plum and pecan trees dotted the border. Beyond that is where we stepped in with our boots to get firewood, fencepost wood, walking sticks—every kind of stick… for any purpose thought up after handling and considering a shape. Find a bowed, flexible branch and all of a sudden you imagine you have lost the ability to use a hand—your hand falls off. You become salamander-like, able to regenerate a limb resembling an extra-long okra clipper.
“Lou Walker Road.” Black Renaissance Noire, New York University, Vol. 18 Issue 2, Fall 2018.
Filed under:
dirt, fungus
Filed under:
dirt, fungus
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WALKING WATER
I came up, because I knew I was a mammal, but I hadnt needed to. And this fact had caused an uncanny feeling, but I did not speak it, only blew air and water from my lips. Wiped my face. A blurry Sam was standing on top of the water. He was walking on the water… I could see his ankles and he was waving and smiling from ear to ear. Peebo was swimming towards him, and just as I was about to fall out from shock, Peebo climbed up to where Sam was, and I knew then that the walking on water Sam had mastered was a sandbar in the middle of the pond.