Origin Story

Is a woman of color

What you consider me

Even if I’ve never eaten

Raw Kibbeh


No intention of going back

Walking the land


In the suburbs I’ll stay

And mine a Zen garden

4-inch rake in my hand


She cleaned-up good

Is what I thought

Of every brunette who ever became

A blonde.


Is that what I’m supposed to do—



Is that what I’m supposed to do

You blanch and I fade


I rub my eyes against the darkness

Near my brain

I power-blast the dye and mask


I wash myself