Hope is like an appendage that hangs from your soul. It is flexible and it is lithe. It reaches out to grab hold of the things it needs to sustain it. And, like any other limb, it doesn’t grow back… Read More ›
Grand Jury
Here Comes The Freedom Winter: The Failure of Truth to Keep Black Men Breathing
Because that’s what the job is for. To keep a little freedom bubble From rising to the surface And spreading Everywhere Pop Pop So the job of a cop Is to stop Stop Stop Those words are 50 years old…. Read More ›
