& colin kaepernick is my president, who kneels on the air \n bent toward a branch, throwing apples down to the children & vets \n \n & rihanna is my president, walking out of global summits \n with wine glass in hand, our taxes returned in gold \n to dust our faces into coins \n & my mama is my president, her grace stunts \n on amazing, brown hands breaking brown bread over \n mouths of the hungry until there are none unfed \n & my grandma is my president & her cabinet is her cabinet \n cause she knows to trust what the pan knowshow the skillet wins the war -from 'my president' \n \n Danez Smith is our President. \n \n 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. \n \n Part friendship diary, part bright elegy, part war cry, Homie is written for friends: for Danez's friends, for yours. \n