9/11/2010 I miss how I never met you there where everyone dances, and sings, and finds themselves in another Smiling for the pleasures that await them in new and happy faces and us and everyone around and in the place Inside and out there is a rhythm of laughter and bodies positioning and being positioned …
Book Review: Infants Of The Spring, by Wallace Thurman
I’d spent the best of the brisk evening at Camelot discussing art, literature, Detroit, and the direction of my novel with my good friend and confidante, (Ypsilanti poet) Nina Simmone. It was getting late and Nina opened another bottle of wine while I looked through her small collection of books, searching for something to soothe my dreary …
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what about the kennedys 
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