If A Negro Got Legs He Ought

Black People Have Always Been Used As A Buffer In This Country Between Powers To Prevent Class War.

Narrative Is Radical, Creating Us At The Very Moment It Is Being Created.

Your Life Is Already Artful-waiting, Just Waiting, For You To Make It Art.

Liberation Means You Don't Have To Be Silenced.

My Daddy's Face Is A Study. Winter Moves Into It And Presides There. His Eyes Become A Cliff Of Snow Threatening To Avalanche, His Eyebrows Bend Like Black Limbs Of Leafless Trees. His Skin Takes On The Pale Cheerless Yellow Of Winter Sun; For A Jaw He Has The Edges Of A Snowbound Field Dotted With Stubble; His High Forehead Is The Frozen Sweep Of The Erie.