THE EPOCH POETRY DIARIES

Black is the colour of my little brother’s mind, the gray streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the color of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled facial area…if tomorrow’s black poetry will likely not EXPLAIN exactly what is but BE it then pens is going to be electric with feeling igniting and the paper shall turn

my eyes took your slender fingers & dreamed on them, they thinned imagination to a queen known as sheba/nefertiti deeming you royalness/earning a fetish of your hand…C. Michael Curtis, a senior editor on the Atlantic Regular monthly, stated he considers Epoch "one of several prime literary Publications during the place regarding the reliable qual