—for George Floyd
These latest Happenings have not driven me away,
But have reinforced the behaviour of my people in me
And broken it up into multiple parts that are now me.
Because of these happenings I still leave a public toilet
Cleaner than it was when I went in, before going out,
To wipe the stain others have smeared on people of my type.
Because of these happenings I still try to wrench the gun
From an officer’s hand, instead of dodging their bullet.
Because of these happenings I still dream of writing poetry
With an angle that is the joint venture of humankind.
Because of these happenings I still cry myself to sleep
When I remember the names, which float past me
In bold type, of Trayvon, Eric, George, Michael, Tamir,
Walter, Alton, Philando, Stephon—say their names—
Breonna, and a host of blurred blacks in italics, the ones
The papers did not count. So many blacks in white gowns
Flowing by that I fall asleep counting them like sheep.
Because of these happenings I wish I were American
So I could vote and convince my friends and family
To vote too. After voting I would invite them to my home
For a barbecue and for a discussion about the future,
What to do with supremacism’s many-headed snake.
Because of these happenings I picked up and reread
Twelve Years a Slave, then the Bible, where it condones
Slavery and misogyny and homophobia. I went into
A trance and woke up in heaven, with God glaring
At me with the red eyes of wrath; my tongue was stuck
To the roof of my mouth, because I knew that I was
Dreaming and would soon awaken to the melody of
We Shall Overcome, followed by a coffin on wheels.
Because of these happenings the American court system
Should be named Death on Wheels instead. And finally,
Because of these happenings I’m going to stop seething
Now, so I can go and protest the death of George Floyd.
But before I leave, of course because of these happenings,
You should know that I have grown bones as solid
As my father’s and almond eyes as soft as my mother’s.
Before these happenings was the word, and the word
was scribbled in Garamond on the forehead of the world.
These latest Happenings have not driven me away,
But have reinforced the behaviour of my people in me
And broken it up into multiple parts that are now me.
Because of these happenings I still leave a public toilet
Cleaner than it was when I went in, before going out,
To wipe the stain others have smeared on people of my type.
Because of these happenings I still try to wrench the gun
From an officer’s hand, instead of dodging their bullet.
Because of these happenings I still dream of writing poetry
With an angle that is the joint venture of humankind.
Because of these happenings I still cry myself to sleep
When I remember the names, which float past me
In bold type, of Trayvon, Eric, George, Michael, Tamir,
Walter, Alton, Philando, Stephon—say their names—
Breonna, and a host of blurred blacks in italics, the ones
The papers did not count. So many blacks in white gowns
Flowing by that I fall asleep counting them like sheep.
Because of these happenings I wish I were American
So I could vote and convince my friends and family
To vote too. After voting I would invite them to my home
For a barbecue and for a discussion about the future,
What to do with supremacism’s many-headed snake.
Because of these happenings I picked up and reread
Twelve Years a Slave, then the Bible, where it condones
Slavery and misogyny and homophobia. I went into
A trance and woke up in heaven, with God glaring
At me with the red eyes of wrath; my tongue was stuck
To the roof of my mouth, because I knew that I was
Dreaming and would soon awaken to the melody of
We Shall Overcome, followed by a coffin on wheels.
Because of these happenings the American court system
Should be named Death on Wheels instead. And finally,
Because of these happenings I’m going to stop seething
Now, so I can go and protest the death of George Floyd.
But before I leave, of course because of these happenings,
You should know that I have grown bones as solid
As my father’s and almond eyes as soft as my mother’s.
Before these happenings was the word, and the word
was scribbled in Garamond on the forehead of the world.
| A street in Guadeloupe named after George Floyd |
