by Jocosa Wade | Nov 5, 2021 | Writing Practice
The nakedness wasn’t what kept Daniel riveted behind the clear glass beads hanging in the archway to Martha’s studio. Nudity was a constant in his life. Neither Henry nor Martha hid their bodies from their son like his friends’ parents did. That’s why his friends...
by Jocosa Wade | Sep 15, 2021 | Writing Practice
Pinch me was the only thought in Jeandarc’s head while she watched the gallery door open, again and again, for more patrons. Yesterday, she turned twenty-eight; Today, she was celebrating the opening of her first New York Art Show. She worked hard to get here. But she...
by Jocosa Wade | Aug 18, 2021 | Writing Practice
It was a June Cleaver-Donna Reed morning. Breakfast was eaten around the table with my father and mother. My older siblings had already left for school. Pink grapefruit coated with sugar lingers on my mind and tongue. I’d just swapped the grapefruit for a bowl of...
by Jocosa Wade | Jul 28, 2021 | Writing Practice
University students, bundled like pigs-in-a-blanket, pull stocking caps and darned hats over their ears, while women with long hair and unadorned faces maneuver strollers with toddlers and babies and large dogs on leashes. Off in the distance, the early morning sun...
by Jocosa Wade | Jul 1, 2020 | Writing Practice
After the last melt of snow,Before the sprouts of spring,A cattail— parched and joint-lessStands like an elder;Its once flowering spike broken bypiggled tufts of pollen. New shoots and leaves frothing from belowwill soon sack this ancient warriorunless hooves...
by Jocosa Wade | Jan 29, 2020 | Writing Practice
The juicer and electric typewriter were no lossneither was the microwave impossible to program,But the bike with training wheels gave her pause,as did the brass bed that once caught the newborns. Will those memories refresh the same way the glass dining table—...