In my last post, Marred Vision, I told y’all about my excursions with Mr. K, to museums, protests, family visits and such. Did I mention that I have every kind of mask imaginable – batik, African, Good Trouble, A No Justice, No Peace, Project Say Something mask, elastic over my head, some around my ears. …

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Mr. K is here visiting from South Carolina.  We are COVID safe and cozy here in Bama.  What us gon’ do?  No more dances and concerts, but plenty of TV.  My son is like, “Why y’all looking at your devices as you watch TV?”  I’m like, “‘Cause we grown.” We go for masked visits with …

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  —————————– he lay there languid in position pissed in disposition roaring to break free from peering eyes camouflaged by cotton candy.   he could smell lake michigan strollers, bikers, runners southside harold’s chicken, giordano’s pizza, and lem’s bar b que margaret murphy-webb, as she sang summer in the city in hyde park   he …

Continue reading “lamentation for 2nd city: the lion’s roar”