Yona Harvey - Bio
Yona Harvey is a swish caught in a net of teeth. She rises in the light of blue curtains & sleeps with one ear open. Maybe she is the water from which she pulls her baby son. Slippery Fish, she once called him. Slippery Fish, her daughter echoed back across the water. Maybe she is the woman closest to the blackboard. Maybe she is the woman wading at the edge of the room. Maybe she has been reading too much Tomaz Salamun. Maybe she is one small word in a noisy sea. Maybe she should speak more of credentials, academic scholarships. But she is afraid you’ve heard all the best stories. (Hard work, high marks, determination). She should keep better track of her volunteering—carpooling, book sharing, telling the stories of Martin Luther King, Jr. Next year, she’ll probably go swimming in Tokyo. Or in Pittsburgh—people wear black & gold there. The rivers take hold & don’t let go. The children say: Look! This is Yona Harvey. She buys green lentils from East End Food Coop. She prepares dinner, drinks, and works in the city.