meeting omolu

meeting omolu

meeting omolu 

   the Orixa of the dead

A Juneteenth Poem by k.lynn johnson


watch them enter

, having just crossed

. they will not know 

my face, my strawed hood 

leaves me unrecognized

. i cannot introduce myself

, i merely take them

from the pavement

, from the car

, from the club

and let them hang over me

. they have to learn how limbs

work here: third eyes 

open and roots unravel

. look, here they come

Body Work

Body Work

Negro Ballet

Negro Ballet