Poetry
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Yet Space Can Not Contain
I remember this poem as the one that made me believe I needed to be high in order to write anything worth writing. I remember writing this poem, sitting on a green plastic chair in my bedroom at my parent’s house in Brooklyn, NY. I remember reading this poem, out loud, during workshop the next… Continue reading
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Just Start
I wrote my first poem as a first grader. It was terrible. Everybody loved it. I loved it too. Finally, a thing I was good at. My first poems were full of happy little rhymes, carefully constructed sentences, and complete nonsense. I wrote what I thought a poem was supposed to be. Continue reading
I can I know 