“3 A.M./Stare at the ceilin’, murder the feelin’/Spider crawl in the corner—Brown Recluse./So appropriate” I rap, far too passionately. Honestly, there is no excuse for my obsession with Childish Gambino. It ruins everything. No, seriously. Because he’s basically made every reference under

“The Eyes That Follow Me”

The fireflies hovered in front of me, their green bodies emitting a radio buzz with their wings. Crickets hummed and perched themselves in trees as a lone frog breached the surface of a creek nearby. Gallons of pressure were placed atop my

“Chest of Hope”

When Sunduq was four she got stuck in the hope chest in her grandmother’s bedroom. Her family looked for her for hours, eventually calling the authorities, who said, “Most children who go missing are actually inside their own houses.” They came to

“Tika Zika”

It was called “Tika Zika”. They gave us instructions to lock ourselves away from each other. No neighbors, friends, nothing–no matter what. My niece played with my daughter a few steps away when the alert flashed on my tablet. We were told


I’m not good at being a witch. To say that I’m incompetent wouldn’t even cover it. My witchcraft is an amateur cocktail of earnest internet searches and a few conferences on Hoodoo which turned out to really be crash courses on homeopathic