blackgirl on mars: notes on a life in copenhagen (or how my alienation brings me closer to people).

Likes to garden and her temper is as hot as her pepper sauce that she makes, from the peppers that grows on her tree. She tends to her garden although her back hurts, picking green, bulbous avocados limey-green oranges under the cruel caribbean heat. My grandmother loves to eat vegetables and warns never to eat meat every day. She prays and never reads. Her nose has surrendered to gravity as well as her breasts. She laughs at herself. She cries for me, sometimes. Silently. I know because she has told me. My grandmother is more beautiful, a million more times more beautiful a zillion to the point where you can't even count, more beautiful than Paris Hilton. She is full of class She takes the motherless in puts her faith in her actions takes care of those who don't have anyone to take care of them. My grandmother smells like limacol dinnermints onions chives fre...

chillin in hawaii w/angela, 2011 Do you wear rollers & slippers to the grocery store do you smoke cigarettes do yoga drink beer or wine? Do you believe in the power of love or eat the fast food of hate that permeates? Do you have the courage to say no to that? Do you shine when others shine or get suicidal when the attention ain't on you? are you beautiful only if others are ugly or can all reside in your heart? Do you fill the hole in your soul through cash register rings or have you committed to a little shopping there and some self-confrontation here? Do you seek the validation of a man's gaze Is it easy for you to help others or do you shrug them off & blame them for thier own predicament, you know, she made her own bed... does womanhood look one way to you or have you accepted the multitude of possibilities inherent in the word? from inventi...