

Breonna Taylor Atatiana Jefferson Michael Brown

DARKNESS CANNOT DRIVE OUT DARKNESS, ONLY LIGHT CAN DO THAT. HATE CANNOT DRIVE OUT HATE, ONLY LOVE CAN DO THAT. MLK
Poems, Prose, Photos & the Art of Being Human
What I’m learning from yoga, massage, injuries, illness, maximal healing/health, interest and others that would be nice to have included if we were born with a manual attached.
Breonna Taylor Atatiana Jefferson Michael Brown
DARKNESS CANNOT DRIVE OUT DARKNESS, ONLY LIGHT CAN DO THAT. HATE CANNOT DRIVE OUT HATE, ONLY LOVE CAN DO THAT. MLK
Elijah McClain Akai Gurley Philando Castile
WE SHALL OVERCOME BECAUSE THE ARC OF THE MORAL UNIVERSE IS LONG, BUT IT BENDS TOWARD JUSTICE. MLK
WHAT SURPRISED ME MOST…
beneath surgery-bright restaurant lights was the unspoken collusion of employees and patrons to ignore the bone-defined man as he tapped thin-paned glass to beg for food. He shoved skeletal hands toward his gaping mouth as if to fill the gnawing we could not imagine while digesting pasta and merlot rather than our muscles to survive as this man’s body had, his hollowed face pled as he mimed across the chasm of language, culture, class. After the waiter returned our leftovers, snug in Styrofoam, I took them across the restaurant, my legs heavy beneath reproach’s hypnotic weight from those unwilling to squander etiquette’s rules that insure our warmth while others freeze. Through my breath outside, I saw him accept a dollar from two spike-heeled women as they scuttled from a bar across the street, yet money’s a tool for future trade, no immediate relief for a churning gut. Drunk with hunger, he wavered in the crosswalk till a horn startled him to the curb. Waving, I caught his eye, offered the bright box. Our eyes locked yet he wouldn’t move, suspended in a code more compelling than starvation, a code older than the south and dangerous as asphyxiation. Cloaked in privilege, I left our paltry leftovers on the bus stop bench and returned to the interior’s glare, each of us visible through glass walls. He sprinted across the street, gulped what would have been tomorrow’s lunch, threw away the box, and returned to the window beside us. He smiled, waved, tried to thank me, but I saw him only peripherally, embarrassed to accept gratitude for so little before he walked away.
Thank you to the editors of decomp magazine who first published this poem.
If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.
Attributed to many though Unknown Origin
How can taking a knee engender more anger than taking a life?
What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight; it’s the size of the fight in the dog.
My friend adopted an 11-year-old 17 pound miniature pinscher, Stella, as well as Stella’s senior bestie and brought them home to Luke, her regal 85 pound rottweiler mix.
Already deaf, Stella had lost an eye in a fight with a larger dog a few weeks earlier. Her stitches were still in place when Stella met Luke, who accepted the new dogs in his home, which was a first. However, when Stella came near Luke’s food, he let out a roar that other dogs had always run or cowered from.
Not Stella. She reared up on exceptionally slender legs, stared at Luke through her one eye and growled loud, ready for action. Never challenged before, Luke looked shocked as he stared at this fine-boned snack-of-a-senior. To his credit, he walked away. Her body was small yet Stella’s spirit was indomitable.