mon trés cher
Being called an “Oreo” as a young girl and throughout adulthood was a dagger thrown at me for existing in a Black body while cranking my head to Nirvana; knowing all the lyrics to R.E.M.’s Green album; shopping at Lululemon; dying my hair purple; dating white folx; making vegan …
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Or why I couldn't bring myself to buy weed until it was legal
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Jan 28Comment 2Share
Rosemarie tapped my shoulder to whisper, It’s time. I leapt to my feet and sat on the edge of the bed taking Grandma’s hand as she took her last few br…
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Jan 7CommentShare
I got off the bus one stop early so that I could take the shortcut down Guerrero to 18th. By providence, I caught a stranger’s eyes on me as I exited t…
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Dec 27, 2020Comment 3Share
A year from yesterday, I sat quiet with my grandmother on the couch in her living room. It was before the nurses were there around the clock. Before sh…
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Dec 14, 2020Comment 3Share
This is a picture of me from 6 years ago, attempting to do crow pose in my kitchen. I centered my Manduka equidistant from the stove and butcher block …
qianya vinson
Dec 6, 2020Comment 1Share
Welcome to montrescher by me, qianya vinson (she/her/hers). I am a poet, fledgling novelist, knitwear queen, former burlesque beauty and all around bla…
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Dec 3, 2020CommentShare
WordPress is a lovely tool, no doubt, but requires a bit too much thought and effort when all a bitch wants is to write. This year is teaching me to ow…
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Dec 3, 2020CommentShare
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mon trés cher


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