A dream of an opinion. — “I’m not coming back,” I told my mom and dad. My knees rolled and ground over the linoleum floor. I struggled to breathe. I couldn’t see through it. I shuffled through the blue bag: “don’t need that, don’t need this. Yes! Keep this,” I whispered fast. “Peter. Here’s two-hundred dollars…

If we are to salvage any remnant of western democracy, we must be willing to sacrifice more than we’ve lost in every war we’ve ever fought. And we are not willing. — Night after night I watch the talking heads of the western alliance proclaim that we’re doing all we can, and will continue to do so to stop the Russian invasion of free Ukraine. And it’s just not true. This opinion will be short and bitter. It is time to address…

A free world’s next generation weeps confused and divided. A fetus sleeps outside its host, exposed. Older stepsiblings regurgitate the stories our elders told and pass security along in hand-me-down flags turned blankets against the cold. It’s world war again. And Salvation is doing nothing to stop it. I cry…

Twentieth Anniversary of the Attack on New York City — I was on her front porch swing, Mariah inside, preparing for work. Her roommate and I smoking American Spirit cigarettes as she drank coffee. The mood was perfect. The air breathed itself into our bodies. We were cradled by reminders of every one of life’s perfect days but didn’t yet…

August is Gone, Hello September! Here on the Outer Banks, September 1st always makes me happy. Those of you reading this who share this strand with me and the other 37,000 folks know what I mean. Gone, for now, are the days of navigating 300,000 extra humans. We are thankful for the money they’ve poured…

Chapter One. Acknowledgement: The war is over. — Five-hundred-seventy-four thousand more Americans died between March 2020 and March 24th, 2021 than the average amount for that span of time. Five-hundred-forty-one thousand were due in some part to Covid-19. Six-hundred-twenty thousand Americans were killed during The Civil War between 1861 and 1865. The bloodiest day of the war was…

What’s a homeless life worth in America? — “In that split-second, I grabbed my backpack from him and held on for my life, bredren! Seen?” he asked me. “Yes, I,” was all I could say, horrified and mesmerized by the story my friend was telling me. “Listen me, Iyah,” he said in Norfolk, VA patois, “I don’t sleep heavy, seen? These blood clot vampires will kill you out here, Iyah, ya hear me?” he said. “So I woke up to this older dude grabbing and getting ready to walk off with my shit. My life, all…