Cebo Campbell

Vacant Lot

I try to imagine what existed before.
Trees, perhaps, with their talking network of roots,
Giving names to the yellow flowers
And shelter to the frogs roused by the rain.
I imagine lush moss on branches
And leaves like instruments in the wind.
I imagine dragonflies
And, in the late afternoon, lighted bugs birthing new stars.
I imagine that even the dead lizards curl their bodies
Back into all that living.
All that living
In what is now a lot, vacant.
Our one sun wasted on asphalt.

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About

I am an author and a Creative Director.

As a full-time creative (VP of Creative Services at Spherical), I spend most days writing in the nooks and crannies of my available time. I wake up at 5:30am just to get in a few hours putting words on paper. I write on the train. I write on planes. I write waiting in lines. I feel I have to write. The reason is simple: representation.

I often tell the story of Ferris Bueller; a kid who decides to skip school and, on charm alone, steals a car, impersonates a cop, drinks underage, tampers with computers, and at every step exposes his best friends to peril, only to go home and fall asleep with his mother to kiss him into sweet dreams. I asked myself if Ferris were Trayvon Martin, how might that story end? I know the answer. So do you. And this is why representation is so important. I aim to contribute more stories into the world that diversely feature regular (but beautiful) lives made extraordinary. Art, I believe, is the only way to accomplish this. All my creative work is inspired by and aims to add to all the great work in the world.

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