There are many layers to poet Saeed Jones’ story: those of long feeling that “being a black gay boy is a death wish,” of first crushes who utter first slurs, of self-loathing and reckless sex, of assault, of the loss of his single mother, who sustained him. And in his memoir, which won a Kirkus Prize, Jones marries his command of language and imagery with his desire for power over his existence and identity and, sometimes, others.
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