Workshop Series #2: The truth we hoard when we are small.

This poem haunts me, but in a good way - ya know?

This poem haunts me, but in a good way - ya know? This is what happened the day I first read it: I’m in New York City for the first time in my adult life and my friend April is taking me on a grand tour. The main event will come after she shows me the Statue of Liberty and I say it’s smaller than I thought it would be.

Yeah, I’ll admit it. I thought that bitch would be bigger, ok! 

We gaze at the (smaller than I imagined) Statue of Liberty, she takes a picture of me pointing, and then she takes me to the main event. The Poets House. We enter and it’s poetry books wall to wall.