Here’s one that comes later and slices through our times all the way to the marrow to expose one of those problems that live at the core of this country like an intractable cancer: It’s made up of little poems, all dealing with dogs in one way or another.

The first one is “dogs!,” a strange crowning jewel that contains the taste of many of the cohesive elements that make this collection read like a whole: anger, humor, rhythm, and a message that’s stretched on top of the words like a cat, waiting for you to acknowledge it, to recognize its existence.

Instead, I’ll give you glimpses of those that have stuck with me for weeks and are still with me now, a month after turning the last page. There isn’t a single throwaway poem in Homie. In fact, Smith does more than that: they make us their friend, especially those of us who, as people of color, have faced a different set of struggles. In Homie, Smith opens their heart and their past and invites us all in to take a look. It’s also a superb collection of poetry from one of the most interesting and unique voices in contemporary literature. Homie, which is the title of this book only for the uninitiated, is a celebratory dance, a slap in the face of complacency, and an invitation to a revolution. Hands, dry and stretch their skins, build the drums, call everyone together forĪ party, and then play the drums while dancing in a house built of words thatĬan withstand a hurricane, the weight of history and racism, and a collection Here we go.īeat of their own drum they slaughter magical animals of oppression with their

Homie by danez smith