Haints

The people of the Future
drink the moon
Everything is possible—Mari Evans

 

Maybe Bobby gets too much credit.

Maybe that night
when his voice bounced against
the Naptown dark
& his uneasy sigh
loosed the letters that spelled kin’s death,
God’s rain spit the echoes of haints
against his face & his obituary
cooled in night’s breath, brushed
shoulders w/the crowd’s synced scream.

Dearest reader, take no offense,
this is not to suggest the act
was not shouting down a bullet,
that Bobby didn’t wish peace. Honestly,
I am an errant kite ensnared in limbs
knowing his eyes would never open
in another 2 months, that he knew the price
for free speech was death,
talked anyway.

Maybe the Circle never fired because the crowd remembered
Emmett
& Medgar
& Addie Mae
&Denise
& Cynthia
& Carole
& Johnny
& Virgil
& JFK
& James
& Andrew
& Michael

& Malcolm
& Malcolm
& Malcolm.

Maybe black folks said
Everything is burned inside me;
I am no friend of bomb or flame,
& when I wake in the morning
I want to see the corner store
clean & whole
like it was before my sleep.

 

Mitchell L. H. Douglas is Associate Professor of English at Indiana University-Purdue University, Indianapolis. His debut collection, Cooling Board: A Long-Playing Poem (Red Hen Press, 2009) was nominated for a 2010 NAACP Image Award in the Outstanding Literary Work-Poetry category and a 2010 Hurston/Wright Legacy Award. His second poetry collection \blak\ \al-fə bet\, winner of the 2011 Lexi Rudnitsky/Editor’s Choice Award, was published in February 2013 by Persea Books. His poems have appeared in Callaloo, Crab Orchard Review, Ninth Letter and the anthologies The Ringing Ear: Black Poets Lean South and Resisting Arrest: Poems to Stretch the Sky among others. He is a Cave Canem graduate and cofounder of the Affrilachian Poets. His third collection of poems, dying in the scarecrow’s arms, is forthcoming from Persea Books in spring 2018.

 

Previous Page

Next Page