Forrest Hamer

A dull sound, varying now and again

And then we began eating corn starch, Chalk chewed wet into sirup. We pilfered Argo boxes stored away to stiffen My white dress shirt, and my cousin And I played or watched TV, no


This air is flooded with her. I am a boy again, and my mother And I lie on wet grass, laughing. She startles, turns to Marigolds at my side, saying beautiful, and I can

Charlene-n-Booker 4ever

And the old men, supervising grown grandsons, nephews, Any man a boy given this chance of making A new sidewalk outside the apartment building where Some of them live, three old men and their


It was 1963 or 4, summer, And my father was driving our family From Ft. Hood to North Carolina in our 56 Buick. We’d been hearing about Klan attacks, and we knew Mississippi to