By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Crystal Wesley I feel swindled. Bamboozled. My millennial past has lied. Long lived a hatred inside my “friends” That I thought with ancestry had died. I knew racial issues still exist, But they were few and far between. Yet with the emergence of one figure, New faces on old…