longer the way

though long is the way she never forget, never forget, never forget she never forget stories of ancestors heat of her tears, unrequited anger appears impenitent ruin negligence sears grandmother cries, but never you fear, (along the way, the longa the way, you stronger today) i once heard her say (she never forget, never forget,…

The Autobiography del mio Soul

I was never an artist. Not I, no sir. I was far too busy being an obedient sycophant in pursuit of the American dream that my handlers convinced me was my own. When my childish heart beat a syncopated timpani to the strokes of my pen, I did not sing its foolish rhythm. While wanton…