Up rides the super cops,
The cancellation squad.
A dormant virus, melted from
The ice pack,
And the conversation
Is end-stopped when
The shell cracks her
Car window, does its
Dumb duty,
Brings silence
To a poet’s mind.
The President says:
You’re a terror bot
If you don’t comply.
Homeland security
Puts on a ten gallon
Texas size hat,
Says see what fucking
With the bull gets you.
There is a picture of her
Just before it tips rancid,
Just before she’s dragged
Into how they see her.
I wish I could read the words
As they blaze their last, unsuspected
Race through her skull.
A language poem that ends on
The word
Impossible.
Cornelius Eady has written extensively about race and society. He has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Together with poet Toi Derricote he founded Cave Canem, which supports emerging African American poets. He teaches at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. (Because of the enormous reaction to the murder of Renee Nicole Good, Portside is publishing 2 poems this week about her death. We’ll return to our one a week schedule next week.)
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