It was 2004. I was incarcerated in Wisconsin’s Dane County Jail. I had forged checks on the account of my seventy-year-old friend, Miss Milele Chikasa Anana, one of the most prominent, renowned, highly respected members of the African American community, Madison,...
I never suspected that your father treated you badly. He was charming, and an enthusiastic host to his grandchildren, so I only saw that side of him. He was playful, mischievous, and resourceful. He made his own soap and vinegar, grew vegetables, bought delicious...
Throughout most of my childhood,I climbed my beloved climbing tree that made sour plums in the summer.The best climbing tree in the neighborhood was in the front yard of an aged retired couplewho had been missionaries in Japan.Not a word about religion was...
My father was a Rage-a-holic, verbally and physically abusive, and more…Drama “King” is an understatement.He seemed to derive pleasure from inflicting pain and humiliation on the rest of us. As a child I could not stand up to this man… Had to put up with this “bully”...
I’ve had enough of foodAnd the way it makes me feelA necessary evil, at once requiredBut not enough to heal. A simple joy served upOne fist after anotherWould it be too much to ask…No, I shouldn’t even bother. The weight adds upThe pain compoundedJust a little more...
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