by
Veronica Haunani Fitzhugh
“Where
the hell did you come from?” he demanded holding my documents with
just his fingertips fearing contamination.
“From
your blind spot.”
“From
your complacency.”
“From
your Other.”
“I
have been here all the time waking, warbling, waiting for you to see
all of me.”
“I
burst forth swaddled in my Daddy’s disappointments and dry humor.”
“A
small tobacco plantation in Spotsylvania County, Virginia where the
Fitz and the Hugh slaves became Fitzhugh slaves.”
“My
Momma and her Momma and her Momma.”
“Africa,
Germany, Philippines, Hawaii, New Jersey, Virginia, Florida, then
Virginia again.”
“The
Navy, the Army, the National Guard, the US Federal Government,
Walmart, and Kmart.”
“Soul
gardens where the sweetest fruits are still bitter skinned.”
“Mouths
of rivers still running muddy and dangerous.”
“From
the time when I slammed on the brake instead of the gas choosing to
no longer kill myself.”
“From
a November naked dance around a park bonfire, cameras, lovers,
strangers, and police.”
“From
that startling moment when you realize the dream is about to be a
nightmare.”
Veronica Haunani Fitzhugh earned her BA in English Literature from the University of Virginia but is more proud of the friendships she earned through her social justice work in Charlottesville, Virginia. She has been in several anthologies online and in print. Her main blog is Charlottesville Winter at cvillewinter.wordpress.org.
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