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 Ypsi On My Mind  is a zine collection of poems by women of color exploring how we see and experience Ypsilanti -- past, present, or future. Ypsilanti is crucial to our region -- and Black, Latinx, Native American, and other women of color are crucial to Ypsilanti. So, what does Ypsilanti mean to women of color? These poems offer a glimpse.

 

This is an open source community zine! Please share and reproduce widely!

I Stand Tall

I stand tall on my foundation in a city that has shown me both love and hate. As I sit next to the water at riverside park, I feel the sun caress my face

by Lolita D. Nunn

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Ypsi (most of the time)

I can find
a friend of mine
in Ypsi
most of the time
(Photo Credit YooperAnn)

by Nancy Nishihira

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A Goddess of Contentment

You are a land full of abundance
an abundance of collective beloveds.
You have taught me to be still
(Photo Credit Shop_Ypsi)

by Erika Murcia

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Thee Beast

Hair
All over my body.
If you collected every strand
My particles would travel for miles

by Rachael Somers

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Familiar Daughter

The sound of the heavy rain woke me on a late August morning
Giant droplets slapped oak tree leaves
their vivid green shrouded the slightly cracked window letting in tepid summer air

by Connystynce Chege

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Poema para Ypsilanti

Querido Ypsilanti amado Ypsilanti!
Desde el corazón te recito con amor
Me levanto a una solo vos con un son conquistador
(Photo Credit Shop_Ypsi)

by Roxana Quijada

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Healing Roots

I try but can’t quite place the memory
That moment I felt rooted into the history

by Desiraé Simmons

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1893 Cyclone Damage at the Chinese Laundry

Hold the photograph close. The erasable space appears: you, nameless, hand on your hat, outside on the sidewalk.
(Photo Credit Matt Callow)

by Linette Lao

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Plum juice

There’s a brown girl in the rain
Tra la la la la
There’s a brown girl in the rain
Tra la la la la la

by Nuola Akinde

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In the saddle

Nothing does a better job of reminding me that I’m alive
than riding my bicycle
losing my breath as I sprint up Cherry Hill Road
(Photo Credit Alan L)

by Jayanthi Reddy

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Birthing Home

When I say I’m undocumented
People are always asking me what
It means to be american.

by Maria Ibarra-Frayre

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Ten Pairs

Every tear escaped behind a mask at dinner unnoticed, a pattern of paw prints on pedestrian streets, the sound of a toothbrush connecting with the floor—
(Photo Credit Kari Zeissky)

by Amber Fellows

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Home (an ode to Ypsilanti)

I didn't grow up in one place
I am glad I didn't
But if I could offer one place for my children
It would be here
(Photo Credit George Thomas)

by Brenda Dinorah González

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An Ode to Complex Movement

A housemate in Detroit
From Pennsylvania
Once told me that she had a polyamorous relationship to place
That multiple cities called to her that she all loved equally but different.

by Violeta Donawa

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Ypsi On My Mind

My being relates to this place
Like a turtle full of substance steadfastly
Forging
Its path

by Anuja Rajendra

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The Refuge

This place is the refuge
where with faith,
a grieving teenager sent her baby girl
lovingly down river
to rescue her from the 1980s.

by Erica B. Edwards

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