National Eulogy
Published in Fearsome Critters Vol 1 - 2018
Written: Nov 2016
Our country may be dead
But was not murdered
America has overdosed
On white supremacy
A drug
That welcomed us like kings
Like prophets
An addiction
That held us with soft velvet chains
Clenching tighter and tighter
To our ivory throats
We spent eight beautiful years
In the finest rehab facilities
Convinced it was prison
Condemning a family
For their grace
Their leadership
Their compassion
For we couldn’t have beauty
Radiating from Black bodies
That our whiteness had yet to master
And when we had to leave
We were not ready
We stared down at twelve steep steps
Felt our mentors’ hands
On our shoulders
And heard them whisper
The first step
Is admitting you have a problem
We closed our eyes
And jumped.
Cradling sprained wrists to our bosom
We cursed the stairs for dropping us
Cursed the Earth for her sturdiness
And the sky for letting us fall
And someone felt our tantrum
Through the ground
And offered us
Something for the pain
We couldn’t see his face
But his golden glow lured us
Like ambrosia
An affirmation that we are gods
A cure for compassion
A powerful anesthetic for the
Deep and abiding proof that
We are the curse
Sitting on a bed of sacred corpses
Trying to feel alive
We took another hit
Another life
To fuel our destruction
We took another hit
Another life
To sedate the night terrors
Muffle the crack of a well-worn whip
That wakes us with cold sweat
To quench our ashen skin
We took another hit
Another life
And watched them etch our name
Into the tombstone
Letter by letter
They wrote
America the beautiful
May her memory be a myth.
