written spring 2024
i feel their eyes in the back of my spine,
observing, perturbing, staring at me,
making me feel like a quivering canine,
trapped in a cage with no way to flee.
bright lights, white walls, security screens,
honing in, focusing, looking for signs
of misuse and abuse of my regulated right
to scan these documents, muscles tight with fright.
the problem's my identity, don't you see?
a disobedient ingredient i brought here with me.
filling out forms, gaining government grace,
show ID, MLC, picture of my face,
paperwork, busywork, just so i can see
face-to-face this aspect of our bloody history.
panopticon privilege to peer at the people;
federal fecundity fraught with fights;
the highly ambitious hopping through hoops
to bring these lamentable letters to light.
invested in veracity, i ventured into vestiges
of violence now forgotten by the dominant race.
memories of tragedies sealed in cardboard boxes,
a narrative hidden just a foot from my face.
they gave me their permission to see all these sheets,
yet i know i’m still their enemy out on the streets.
trapped here with strangers, breathing germs into lungs,
stale air circulating, harming everyone
with a negligent, noxious COVID-care ignorance,
a vile and virulent infectious negligence.
the power to protect, yet they stab you instead,
inserting their lies and their filth in your head
to continue their curse, to collectively colonize,
extracting and redacting to fit into their eyes.
so reach out, honey, grab the rose by its thorn:
this work and this place are both mourning-adorned.