Category: Reflections

X Men Immigrants

We don’t know it yet, but our streets are being lined with mutants That’s right, Cyclops, iceman, angel and storm Are reborn, unworn and not yet torn, And they walk between you and me, They sit beside you on the bus and the tube, They man CCTV and fight adversity They guard gas stations, sell… Continue reading X Men Immigrants

Eight Years

There is a wooden desk with a wooden chair. If I close my eyes, the table and the chair could be in a warm room full of books that belong to an old man who knows that dark wood has a simplicity that feels timeless. My eyes are not closed, and I see furniture that… Continue reading Eight Years