"& colin kaepernick is my president, who kneels on the air
bent toward a branch, throwing apples down to the children & vets

& rihanna is my president, walking out of global summits
with wine glass in hand, our taxes returned in gold
to dust our faces into coins
& my mama is my president, her grace stunts
on amazing, brown hands breaking brown bread over
mouths of the hungry until there are none unfed
& my grandma is my president & her cabinet is her cabinet
cause she knows to trust what the pan knowshow the skillet wins the war" —from 'my president'

Danez Smith is our President.

A mighty anthem about the saving grace of friendship, Danez Smith's highly anticipated collection Homie is rooted in their search for joy and intimacy in a time where both are scarce. In poems of rare power and generosity, Smith acknowledges that in a country overrun by violence, xenophobia and disparity, and in a body defined by race, queerness, and diagnosis, it can be hard to survive, even harder to remember reasons for living. But then the phone lights up, or a shout comes up to the window, and family — blood and chosen — arrives with just the right food and some redemption.

Part friendship diary, part bright elegy, part war cry, Homie is written for friends: for Danez’s friends, for yours.