fiction and musings from a gay black dude with delusions above his station
Art Spiegelman’s masterpiece Maus deftly illustrates the slow descent into chaos experienced by European Jews as the Nazi menace took hold over their lives. The nightmare did not hit all at once, but in slow, dreadful paces. During the descent, everyone tried to live as normal a life as possible. They went to the store. …
It looks like an ordinary door, which it is, in a way. It’s beige. It’s made of ordinary materials. It has no architectural flourishes. It has no signage, nothing that reads “Private” or “Restricted” or anything like that. It doesn’t even have a special lock. Any of those things would cheapen its importance. Whispers carry…
I have read a variety of views on the nine-hour detention of Glen Greenwald’s partner David Miranda at London Heathrow Airport last weekend. Unfortunately some can’t seem to separate their disdain for Glen Greenwald from the detention of his partner and what that detention signifies. They somehow think that the issue is overblown or fear…
[Originally published in August 2012] For a 12 year old, Clayton Simmons maintained the most peculiar habits. By a calculus all his own, he computed the precise number of movements and amount of time necessary to complete his morning rituals so that he ended up looking fabulous for the day. Teeth brushing required one minute,…
[Originally published on the gar spot in January 2011.] The fantasy started that night, in the shades of black he wore and the shades of tan that made up our skin as we stood together in the wings overlooking the orchestra. I stood behind him and allowed my hand to brush against his, allowed my breath…
(Originally published in October, 2011) I’ve always liked older boys. One summer day long ago my mother took me to the Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round. I don’t remember if it was my first trip to a merry-go-round, but I remember how excited I was to be able to ride on it by myself. I felt all grown-up….
CES. The Center for Enriched Studies. Los Angeles’s first magnet school, founded in 1977. I was there. And so was John Otterness. On the first day, after everyone arrived by bus from various far corners of the Los Angeles metropolis, we all assembled in a large auditorium. Time to meet the faculty of our new,…
This week has been an emotional roller-coaster. I can’t recall the last time I felt such crushing sadness about a public event, about the death of someone I never knew. I range from anger about George Zimmerman’s acquittal to deep sadness that Trayvon Martin is not still alive and well and preparing to go to…
[Ed.’s Note: This piece was first published in August, 2012. It is loosely inspired by real events.] Mrs. Cobb stood in the classroom doorway during recess watching her flock. Two of her colleagues stood by an adjacent classroom talking, their voices deliberately hushed. Mrs. Cobb paid no attention to them, nor did she take their…
George Zimmerman was found not guilty. He goes free. Trayvon Martin is still dead. Mr. Zimmerman got his wish. He wanted to be a police officer. He yearned for it. He ached for it. He acted with the air of authority and entitlement of a police officer the day he stalked and shot Trayvon Martin…
