BLACK

Dhaka and Dirty Dialectics: A Nocturnal Prose Poem in Seven Microcantos

Azfar Hussain Translated from the original Bengali by the author So where is history written/except in the poems? —Audre Lorde, Our Dead behind Us They have told me I only talk about politics now. —Ernesto Cardenal, Zero Hour Microcanto I Forgive me if my accent keeps falling on the wrong syllable. Forgive me if my black poem invites crude prose and even coarse statistics. And forgive me if I blurt out the dark unsayables...

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Brown Boy, Red Ghost

Vanessa Norton When their blue-eyed children grew too old for the Presbyterian choir, the only WASP couple on the block adopted a light-skinned boy from Jamaica. Gary, they called him, not thinking it was a jumble of the word gray. Nor that Gary, who they'd thought was dyslexic, might ever notice this himself. By the time his older brothers and sisters had been shipped off to universities in the tiny states, the boy had...

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