"Ecolin kaepernick is my president, who kneels on the air
bent toward a branch, throwing apples down to the children bvets
Rrihanna is my president, walking out of global summits
with wine glass in hand, our taxes returned in gold
to dust our faces into coins
Smy mama is my president, her grace stunts
on amazing, brown hands breaking brown bread over
mouths of the hungry until there are none unfed
emy grandma is my president cher cabinet is her cabinet
cause she knows to trust what the pan knowshow the skillet wins the war" -from 'my president'
Danez Smith is our President.
A mighty anthem about the saving grace of friendship, Danez Smith's highly anticipated collection Homie is rooted in their search for joy and intimacy in a time where both are scarce. In poems of rare power and generosity, Smith acknowledges that in a country overrun by violence, xenophobia and disparity, and in a body defined by race, queerness, and diagnosis, it can be hard to survive, even harder to remember reasons for living. But then the phone lights up, or a shout comes up to the window, and family - blood and chosen - arrives with just the right food and some redemption.
Part friendship diary, part bright elegy, part war cry, Homie is written for friends- for Danez's friends, for yours.
