Excuses and Abstractions

Excuses and Abstractions

(“David said to the Lord, “I have sinned greatly by doing this! Now, O Lord, please remove the guilt of your servant, for I have acted very foolishly.’” 2 Samuel 24:10b)

Call me foolish; but not like David. I have forgotten the numbers
and so, for now, write unabated.

The ink has not dried; the smoke still circles
the inkwell where the last shootout transpired.
We hoped emerging sounds, cries of the stricken,
prayers of the dying and pistols whipping up the air
like last year’s carousels would

Once

And over

Wake the lazy thinker snoozing in the clover
and turn his mask around to see, eyes properly adjusted,
that freedom is busted when everyone locks their doors and
electrifies their opinions. Let us be clear, the numbers are stronger
than Saturn’s rings; the answer clearer than Dylan sings:

The excuses were buried in the mud and come up
when the tide rises. Now Abel’s blood recites the latest
chorus to add the next verse to the blindman’s dirge.

We could offer freedom, if we were free;
we could save the water, if we would see
the blood on the streets, the blood upon the walls,
the blood upon the white tees, the blood upon the laws
and order, the hoarders and the spenders; if the next time

We see the menders binding wounds, owning slurs,
and spending dimes on candles to guide surgeon’s
hands; all
we ask, all we seek, today, this minute, not tomorrow and
next week;

Black Lives Matter (how many eyes does it
take to be opened, before we despise our own jealousies).

I am far too quiet, too far removed. I will not count
the numbers, fear the decaffeinated mood of anyone
(thus far in this bit of writing I’d say)
I will not steer clear of mental paradoxes used by
proper instructor meant to
steal younger minds from thinking if

Jesus appreciates our excuses and abstractions
to miss the opportunity in

The middle of the road.

Matter

Matter

(“Tie them on your hands and wear them on your foreheads to help you remember my teachings.” Deuteronomy 6:8)

We need no further instruction, we are full, we are satisfied;
We do not need the signs along the boulevard, and please do not
bring them to my neighborhood.
My Life Matters: that’s all you need to know.

My Life Matters, but has never been mistaken for a felon.
My Life Matters, and I can trace my relatives back to tobacco and cotton farms,

bogs and peats before crossing in hope, the Great Blue.
My portage was paid, my travel discretionary.
My Life Matters: where would you be without me?

Your Life Matters? Of course, but only as it relates to me.
Your Life Matters: And your relatives crossed the same Tossing Sea, though
I grant you against their will. But the climate was better, and jobs awaited you
once you brought the right price at auction.
Your Life Matters: but I just don’t see why you are making such a fuss.
Weren’t you freed? Aren’t you living the Dream? I know the school
where you live sits like an abandoned air force base; sand in the bubblers,
weeds between the crumbling pavement cracks.

Black Lives Matter, and after letting time rush between our feet, the
river we never catch,
and after letting reason have sway over the reflexes that make our mouth
into a muttering mass of artillery rounds, we pause

And honor your suffering without cause.

We will only say All Lives Matter when we put, at the head of our line,
those forced to the back and beyond empathy’s reach. Until then

I (cannot speak for “we” now) will honor the Meaning of every
sorrow, every grief, every cloud that should not have perched above
the barrel of a gun too quickly squeezed by an officer of the Peace.

I will honor the Uniforms who embrace the best wisdom, who
sit at the feet of the inner city father long enough to hear,
who let themselves weep at another neighbor’s pain,
who, along with their tears, look humbly in the eyes
of a black man’s grief, and lead the amen, the rhythm
of brotherhood alive again, and can repeat the humble refrain,
the quiet unison above the foolish chatter;
“I understand now, and with you say, without doubt,
without deceit..

Black

Lives

Matter