Still when I send my mother a selfie she asks Are you okay? You look sad I am sad. And mad, actually
Creative Writing
Dae Dreams
She is voguing, snake owning/ French-speaking, ass-kicking/ Backflipping/ She is awesome
WHERE WATER MEETS
I am a descendent of the people without names remembered only in the water that holds every soul she has ever been gifted jealously. When I pass her, she ask...
Black Power Dance
Last Draft is proud to share a spoken word performance of the poem Black Power Dance by Brandon Wint. Black Power Dance can be found in print in Brandon Win...
In God's Name
The World has never been too kind to us. Ignorance often trails behind us like a lost child. As she is she & I am me. Coloured. Queer. Woman. But look! There...
Remember Your Roots
These petty ego negotiations Like small weeds blowing in the wind At the base of my thick wooden trunk They are nothing to me Nothing compared to My roots goin...
A Good Moose Story
In the days growing up in Port Arthur, as it turned itself into Thunder Bay, I did lots of camping. This is in the middle of North-Western Ontario and camping ...
Sometimes
Sometimes the paper writes it for me. Sometimes the music plays itself. Sometimes my dreams are the way I choose to speak. Sometimes I listen to myself. Somet...