born under black sheep
the child roamed
through plains of immigrant Korean voices
shoes off at the door
ramen with the family
siblings with slanted eyes
안녕하세요
엄마, 아빠

the child liked it there
before being banished from Home by
intruding peers
suddenly, black
검정
the dark hue of smudgy ink he could not read
the dark hue of ghetto fog
through which he could not proceed
father’s embrace
his only education of a brown place
not enough preparation for
school’s brown space
mutual rejection
he just wants to go Home
안녕하세요
엄마, 아빠

they try to say
Home is where the black is
well he was beaten
beaten black
검정
beaten into
code-switching
identity confusion, frustration, delusion
the child, lost
nervous steps in new homes
feels like intrusion

black can’t be this hard

so he reads that smudgy ink novella
he fingers through tales of statistics and sorrow
where an unlikely hero survives – father
against villains of the same blood
but
the child cannot see the world left behind
as Home
where grandma sits
contemplating on
rolling stone, no-child-support-paying motherfucker
– grandfather
silenced savior, shotgun suicide
truck driver
– stepgrandfather
characters this child could not share love with
the child wanders.
잃어버린

now
Now I reject every place society tries to contain me in
I will not be shown where Home is
아니요
Home is in the arms of
a black sheep,
hard-headed urban street warrior
– father
Home is somewhere in the hills of Walnut, CA
somewhere I can sleep until 5PM
Home is where I can take road trips
with a goofy, fair-skinned baby brother
Home is my 엄마 and my 아빠
Home is wherever the fuck I am as long as my cell phone can reach
my 엄마 and my 아빠
Home is somewhere you cannot be
Home is someplace you cannot understand

I write
for the silenced black child in me
who grew tired of knocking on so many doors
with no answer
to let him know
he can come Home now
흑인 소년. 집으로 돌아와.

Julian Daniels

You left me
Sitting on the playground
Alone and cold
I could not be consoled
Your selfless embrace replaced by flashbacks and grey ashes in the cracks of a bitter wall
Too small a container to hold your life
Your unconditional love shoved into a mass of dust we trusted to retain your spirit
My mind
Too violent a world to forgive your death

I lost a fortress
Granny
The peace of your home was
The peace of my mind
A piece I have tried to find
Again
Among the scattered shrapnel and singed steel
Amidst an Unholy War
Of my creation
Flaws and cracks in my world
I still bleed through the cuts of your departure

I realized
Those phone calls were never enough
The pictures and “thank you”s
And kisses and “I love you”s
And old rocking chairs
And custom, cotton build-a-bears
And corduroy jean repairs
Were never enough

I realized
That the more I understood
I love you’s
The more I hated Him
For not giving me a chance
To love you back
Like I wanted to
Like I needed to
To show you
I know
You loved me

So now I close the Testaments
New and Old
Refuse to break the damn bread
Like He broke my spirit
Because if he existed
He would have cared that you sat and watched me sleep away that night
In that rocking chair
Begging to stay with me
In that room
Forever
He would have seen
A love
That I could not have seen yet
That could have brightened the gloom of my waking scenes
And not just surface
Hauntingly
In bitter dreams

If I could speak to that grey dust you left me
Granny
I would whisper
I love you
To watch it carry on the wings of my words
I only have one prayer left
And it’s not to God
It’s to you
I only want a heaven
For one more hug

I love you
Rest In Peace Granny

Julian Daniels
Image: Me and my Grandma, Jeri Cagnolatti