Photo: George Sheldon / Shutterstock.com The pungent odorof horseradish follows youpast butchers, bakers,and florists, past glazed donuts, hard pretzels, and youngMennonites tying cherrystems in knots with tongues. Andy Brown is a freelance writer and editor of Scrawl...
We’re walking in San Francisco and it’s getting late. I’m here in The City and it has been such a long time. A lot of time has passed. A lot of heavy time. It weighs on me as I return to familiar places and I feel aged, but you have to pronounce it...
My feet are cold. They remind me of that one week in Iowa. I look at my feet. I don’t like to think about that week in Iowa. It was not a good week in Iowa. I keep looking at my feet. They are covered in cotton—frayed and tubed. I can feel every inch of me forgetting...
“Ibadan’running splash of rustand gold-flung and scatteredamong seven hills like brokenChina in the sun.” —John Pepper Clark Bẹẹrẹ Four ways to the homes of warriors, the peak of Màpó,The abandoned palace; they said every Baálẹ̀ has taken palace To their...
Photo: Dotun55, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Èkó àkéte, the promise land of any who so wishes,Bounded by the ocean of wisdom, “if you no wise for Lagos You no fit wise for anywhere”, city of hundreds dramas, teachingEvery Jonny the lessons of...
