NYU Black Renaissance Noire Fall 2013 - Page 107

Hurricane Sandy Before you even camewinds plotting massive destruction rains raping crops trees toppling over crushing cars cutting electricity; there was the tornado of her homea whirlwind of ripped papers, decades old, a hornet’s nest of broken records, dying plants paper clips, rubber bands, pads eclipsing the little light left inside, also dangerous wires tethered to socketsuntouchable threatening to explode in my hand like a damaged umbilical cord. She was my stepmother, and I had to rip through the furniture splintered like fangs, monstrous mounds of garbage dead bed-bugs trapped on glue strips; I threw all her belongings into the incinerator, felt the heat of her books and bones, 105 BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE before the floods that washed away the fire that stopped the subway and put the City to sleep. BRN-FALL-2013.indb 105 9/13/13 12:48 AM