Kitchen Table MFA (World Above): Champions of Norwood Street
Words By Cole Eubanks, Art By Mashiro Momo
This poem is part of the Kitchen Table MFA, a series that showcases writing communities through interviews and creative writing.
In cities around the world, hundreds of millions
Of thin walls divide sets of lives like parallel
Universes. If quiet, you can hear the hunger.
Lying in bed at night, when you roll away from
your lover, you might be closer to the breath
and arms of another. Sheetrock might be the
only thing separating you from infidelity, because
you are almost sleeping together. Decades ago
in Philadelphia, goaded by my twin sister, we
pressed ears to drinking glasses pushed against
a wall and listened as our pro-boxer-neighbor beat
his wife like an opponent. Facing each other, we
heard wincing blows come staccato when he
was throwing combinations. Twice, the thud
of her head crashed to the hardwood, unlike
the stretched canvas on which he often found
himself. He was undefeated in his house. Long
after they moved away, I mirrored my sister
slow- motioning her cup to the side of her head.
From her expression, I knew she heard what I
heard punches.
Read Nancy Reddy’s interview with World Above here. World Above member Kit L. Lok’s poem can be found here.