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Mitzi Kay Jackson

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Momma Do I Have Wings Too?
By Mitzi Kay Jackson
Monday, November 17, 2008

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Mitzi Kay Jackson
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Momma dressed us all up after feeding us like christmas...she cleaned us all up me and my brothers and sisters. She said with her eyes looking like glass all shinny (but nuthing was coming out of them) somehow I knew sumthing was spose to come out of them, "momma people calling her home, baby you didn't know but we belong to people who could fly"

My sisters were alot younger than me, I was the big girl of the house. I was seven years old when she talked over the dinner table to me, after she showed me how to wash,cut,wash again season and cook chicken. She showed me how to make potato salad and green beans with onions, yams which was my favored. She told me of the story of our family and wings. We a magic people Jada! We come from a long line of magic. One day late one night while our family slept warriors of brown and black skin came out of shadows with greed on their breath collected us and stole us away from our homes, seperated us from our families. They opened the guts of holy spirits and them swollow us.We rode inside of guts and bowels mashed together and when the great holy spirit opened it's mouth our grandfather stood at the top of open mouth and these wings broke open from his back where trees had grown thick, strong, black wings and before anyone could grab him, in one swoop (mother demonstrating with her entire body shaking the dinner table) his wings went up in the air and he brought it down with such a force that when he ascened he took evrybody that was linked to him up and up and away. Mother's eyes were wide and staring up at the ceiling had me watching grand dad flying over all that water out of all that filth.

Mother sits back down here eyes now swaying from one end of the table to the other. One day Jada a man who walked through people, steppedon and walked through came and tried to talk one of our mothers way, he tried to do like some men try to do, suck and twist and take every most thang that is inside of you make it theirs by way of killing what you got to you just aint got no moreto give then they try and try and take some more but momma our momma let her clothes fall from her body magical child magical and her wings rolled out of her back not like butterfly wings as beautiful as they are no these where thick feathers black and shinny feathers she arch her back head high in the air and she grabbed her babies she wasnt going to leave them behind (the ones they ain't take and she lifted herself and them off the floor and throught the roof of that little old shack.

But momma where did they go off to momma are we going do we got wings? Momma do I got wings too? Momma looked at me she looked at me as if she had never really looked at me before and she walked over to me and she put her hands in my hair then my face then took my hands into her yes baby i am sure you got wings too but right now they just so punnt you cant do nuthing with them and momma only got two arms. She kissed me on my forehead and gather the younger ones up in her arms i got up and followed behind her as she walked to the door and i followeed her upall those steps, those piss filled staircases were you could hear words bouncing off walls loud drunken, dope and wine filled words when we got to the top were momma said I could follow no more she said she want me to go home put the locks on the door and get under the covers and pray silently to myself to make my wings big and strong just in case i need them one day. run run now and i did and i made it back to my house and my room and got under my covers. And i began praying so hard but the noise all the noise from flashing colors and people screaming and yelling and banging wouldn't let me pray and maybe God just didn't hear me over all the noise, over all the racket for wings or maybe my wings broke like my mommas........


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Reviewed by Gwendolyn Thomas Gath 3/20/2009

Mitzi "Momma Do I Have Wings Too?" a great read
I enjoyed the speakers tone of voice throughout.
Much imagery to devour thank you for sharing.

Take care,

Reviewed by Muhammad Al Mahdi 3/8/2009
You have an intriguing style of prose, just as you do in poetry. I like it best when you're experimental. For you have a command of language and a souvereignty in its use that allows you to crack it.
To crack it with great effect, to arrange it in new patterns, to "heal" or rebuild it. Language in your writings enters into a dialogue with your soul blood and, through this channel, into a dialogue with itself.
Reviewed by Michael Gibbs 12/25/2008
How can you put so much into such view words. Well done indeed.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 11/18/2008
A poignant tale of a child's view of her mother's suicide.

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 11/18/2008
what a beautiful and heart rending story
Reviewed by Felix Perry 11/18/2008
Excellant story although touches the heart and mists the eyes.


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