The pot stays on. On the stove, the simmer sojourns south. Hunger don’t have
no place in this kitchen. In this kitchen, every Black belly has its feed.
This garden ornamental tastes best after the first frost. After what
could not survive falls to decay in service of more sumptuous fruit.
O, my clever, sour Gods smoked from brine and whimsy, sweetwater recalls
me a Mississippi mad woman. Sick to soul with all this fruit. Yearning for
what it means to feed
and be fed.
Ashia Ajani (she/they) is a Black storyteller originally from Denver, CO. Her work explores the layered relationship between the Black diaspora and Western environmental stewardship. They have been published by The Journal, Sage Magazine,The Hopper Magazine, and Foglifter Press, among others. She is a 2019 PEN America Writing for Justice Finalist. They released their first chapbook, We Bleed Like Mango, October 2017.