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

lanzarote, 2012 What does love look like to you? Does it have the gentle Smile on an old face As eyes come alive at the sight of a child? What does love look like to you? Is it shiny and new and Made of plastic Or dull and drastic? Does it include children, the stale smell of soup kitchens or the sight of a youth giving his seat up to someone older? Is it the sight of old ladies with lines of happiness traversing faces, lines That no longer know their resting place that map out, adventures and sorrows? What does life look like to you? Does it look like an old, White headed Black man Who has submitted To the capriciousness of life And thus ensuring victory and Eternity? What does life look like To you? Is it fluorescent lit and can fit into your pocket? What does life smell like to you? The stale smell of yesterday’s Used grease Or the pure escape of Lavender into the air? What does love Fe...

the mothers of memory by brown 2010 My Beautiful Aunt Greta My mother is a bastion of secrets. Her fortitude in the face of my questioning is magnificent. She will not tell that my brother has a father other than mine. She will not tell about her pre-marital pregnancies. And if it were not for pictures, she would not have even told the true color of her hair. But she will, and enjoys, telling of other’s trespasses. One such trespass she particularly relishes, one she constantly refers to behind her mother’s back is that of my great grandmother Frances Lopez. “Shhh.” She would say, alive with a glee that should only be reserved for the adolescent, “Don’t let Mommy Clarisse (her mother) hear us. She does get vex when she feel we bad talking Ma.” It is February and I have traveled to Trinidad. It is the first time I am here with my husband and child—in other words it is the first time I have traveled to Trinidad as a woman. The trip is a lesson in how difficult it is to sle...

Life here is finally getting better. I have now been in Copenhagen for 7 years! I have finally learned the language (I really resisted it, but trust me, it helps!), and I finally got a job that I really like. My grandmother, whom I love to bits, just came to visit me from Trinidad! She turned 82 here, and I threw her a little party. We listened to calypso and she told me she likes me better when I have had a few to drink... The darkness is settling in on Copenhagen. The winters here are bare and dark. The trees disappear and nature looks like a hollowed out corpse. It really does. That's why I think of it as a training ground for the soul. If you can survive a winter here...then you ain't as bad as you thought. Peace, Lesley Ann