Mama is magic.
From her fingers
Springs lightning.
Her eyes, the
Fire in the ramparts.
She say,
“Baby, we descended
From lines of
Kings and Queens.”
Sahara Desert skin,
The shell of my oasis.
Mama’s palms, kneading
Old Negro Spirituals
And baking the
Cornbread of ancestors.
She is my focal point,
The first reservoir
Of ashe and cocoa butter
Handed down from her mother
And her mother
And her mother
And her mother.
She is my Zora,
The living book of Hoodoo,
And who knew
That we was so
Special?
Black people
Stand strong like
African mountains,
Build up homes
From the dirt and our
Skin and our hair
And collard greens
And black-eyed peas
And barbecue
And Southern tongue
And Jerry curls
And jumping brooms
And holding out
And holding out
And holding out.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Adeto Kunbo is a queer, African-American student in love with creative writing. He has won awards from the Huntsville Literary Association and the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. His work has been published in InQluded Magazine, Polemical Zine, Elan Literary Magazine, and Spicy Zine. He is focused on creating a novel or a volume of poetry. He lives in Alabama.
ABOUT THE EDITOR:
Jillian is an aspiring writer from Long Island, New York. Her work has received national recognition in the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards and has been published in the Apprentice Writer literary journal. When she isn’t writing poetry or short fiction, Jillian is reading, riding horses, or drinking obscene amounts of tea.You can find her on Instagram @jmcarson_poetry.