"JFreeman | Po'Chop" handwritten in Sharpie by Chicago based performance artist Jenn Freeman | Po'Chop
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    atlanta country boy

    who loved his momma, cutting (hair), sweets, rick ross & tupac, strip clubs, red bottoms, don julio, women, lobster and a fist full of money

    michael anthony harris was a slow talking 

    soft hearted

    son, dad, barber, nephew, friend, husband

    he was my big brother 

    joy embodied

    he didn’t give a damn

    he had a deep slow laugh that would flare his nostrils wide

    and a left eye that would veer to the side whenever he sunk into thought

    last time i saw him, he laughed 

    reminded me of our childhood Sunday mornings 

    when ma would leave out

    dressed for sunday school in sheer white pantyhose 

    smelling soft, she’d kiss our cheeks

    letting us know she’d be back to get me dressed 

    and together we would attend sunday service

    michael was to make sure me and him had breakfast

    once ma was gone

    we’d have bowls of cereal and then michael would lay our clothes out

    he’d ask

    “what you wearing dump?”

    dump was the nickname he’d given me. ‘cause to him i looked like a dumpling as a baby.


    fingers in mouth i’d point and he’d lay a frilly dress across my bed along with socks and shoes

    vaseline between palms

    he’d smooth my hair into two lopsided pigtails

    and help me into a stiff floral dress

    i’d sit on the edge of the couch

    and buckle my shoes and rub lotion on my legs and arms

    while he hummed into the bathroom mirror

    buttoning a starched shirt and brushing his hair

    ready, i’d slide my hand into his

    and we’d walk down the hill on harper st. 

    laughing and singing 

    catching ma by surprise just as Sunday School was ending

    that was august 2020

    two months later on november 28, 2020 my brother and nephew became ancestors, a car accident

     

    “that’s just the way it is, things will never be the same.”

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    “but you ain’t dump no more.” he said as a grin smeared across his face 

    his left eye returning to center.

    “naw you a grown woman.” 

    silence settled between us as both our eyes connected. seeing each other

     

    seeing me, he said, " i love you sis."

    seeing him, i love you michael

    inhale

    you know i'm momma's favorite tho right? he said

    and we broke out in a laughter that echoed those Sunday mornings

    two siblings giddy with playful bickering and boundless love

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    Chicago, IL | itspochop@gmail.com | Jenn Freeman | Po'Chop

    © Copyright 2020 It's po'chop muthafucka!

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