The worry is always whether my indulgence like a regular subject-predicate is universal.
The worry is whether the scope of my writing now rests too firmly on autobiography and the sexual violence of autobiography. […]
Like every other black woman, I sleep naked with a box fan in the open window. / When it rains and after my kid has sung into the dust-white, / spinning blades (laughing with distortion), after he is sleeping in his own dark room, Football basketball betting[…]