My grandfather, Hugo, named me ‘Choicee” when I was a little babe. His first Grandchild from his first and only daughter.

First granddaughter.

Much like the word ‘choice’, but with an extra E sound — and letter.

Turns out I am choicee, or choosy, I suppose is the non-Liberian broken English


Don’t know how to make a choice for the life of me.

Like a sad game of double dutch,

Constantly moving quickly from one side to the next.

Like the true double Gemini I am.

Trouble is, no one believes in that.

But I do.

I’m living proof.

Bullet proof.

Straight Bulleit Bourbon drunk living proof.

2 thoughts on “Choicee

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