Ahh..now this?! This is one of my ABSOLUTE favorite vintage pieces written by Vanessa Martir. I remember when it was a featured piece on WordPress a couple of years ago!
As a native New Yorker…born and reared in Brooklyn it speaks to me on so many levels.
So SURPRISE this one is for you MOMMY!
Yep…my MOMMY reads EVERY single post and then emails me about it. From my grown woman poetry to every interview or featured poet. (My parents were also born and reared in Brooklyn and Bushwick is where my late Dad is buried).
So MOMMY meet Vanessa…she is fire personified. Just like you…my FIRST Shero. Happy early Mother’s Day! I love you and miss you with my every thing.
(Insert nickname only you can call me)
Everyone else…. ENJOY!
I say, “I’m from Brooklyn” like there’s a grenade exploding from my mouth.
I walk different after saying it. My step is a little harder, my shoulders more square, nose held higher in the air. It’s a momentary self-assuredness that follows me for a spell.
I feel it rise into my jaw when I see her approach across the water as I’m crossing the Williamsburg Bridge; when the train doors close on First Avenue and the L snakes under the East River.
The thing is, the Brooklyn I’m from isn’t the Brooklyn of today. It’s not that funky Brooklyn that I keep in my back pocket in case somebody tries it. (You don’t wanna mess with a girl from 1980s Bushwick.)
My Brooklyn is the Brooklyn of the Domino sugar factory and rubble and crack. Nostalgia can be a confusing thing. It isn’t always for the neat and pristine…
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