I love Aja Monet. Seriously, she is one of my favorite poets on the planet. I love how she’s both a poet and an organizer and doesn’t see these roles as in opposition but inextricably linked. I saw her speak at a WRBG festival one year ago, and I felt like her comments went above the room’s head. That saddened me. She’s such a brilliant, deep thinker. I wonder if she often feels lonely, being able to see all the patterns that she notices in the world. Her first book, “My Mother Was A Freedom Fighter,” lingered in my heart and mind for days after I finished it. So this sophomore anthology I had high hopes for, and it didn’t disappoint. This book is her ode to her time spent in Little Haiti, a neighborhood in Miami, FL. She moved there with her husband, and she recently got a divorce. The book is a space for her to make sense of her time spent there. The grief, the ghosts, and the grace she inherited through her many years of making this city and person her home. She plays with form and pushes the structure of her poems beyond the normal limits that I tend to encounter most often in the genre. When I can’t find the words to express a feeling I’m experiencing, I open up some Aja Monet. This text gave me words for a lot of emotions that have been swirling around in my head for the past year. I’m so grateful to have read it. This book is for people whose lives may not have gone the way they expected, but can still trace the shadows of light and darkness that they have encountered along the way. Cop this one as soon as you can. It’s a balm to healing I didn’t even know I still needed. You need it to!