poetry

lessons in inhumanity

lessons in inhumanity

the morning started
with the video of the white woman
marshalling the cops to muzzle
the conscientious Black birdwatcher

discuss:
her use of adjectives, verbs
her tone and its cause
and its potential effect
his position, her approach
the thrashing struggle of her dog
the dog’s current disposition
his vocation

introduce:
the concept of ____ing While Black
(as in, Driving While Black,
Birding While Black)

reflect on:
our favorite bird guide of all time,
Dr. Kabelo Senyatso,
imagine him transported from the relative safety of
Botswana bush
to Central Park’s The Ramble
(racists less predictable than lions)
his life reduced to a color

consider:
what small action you can take
to honor Christian’s dignity

the day ended
driving through Denver
police on motorcycles blocking the street
around the Capitol
helicopter circling
tired protesters with sagging signs
hopeful enough to put their health
and safety on the line
to be counted for accountability

explain:
police brutality
and its unequal application
why anyone must affirm
that Black Lives Matter
that it is possible
for one person to kill another
without consequence

evaluate:
how much more bone-wearying
hatefulness and injustice
9- and 12-year-olds can absorb
in one 10-hour span
your privilege in having any part
in determining what they know about all this
your color and theirs making these conversations
seemingly optional

decide:
whether or not to share
the Denver Post’s crawl
rounding the building
as you drive by:
Denver police searching for driver
who struck protester
during George Floyd rally

when what’s left of everyone
is tucked in,
cry for all tonight’s damaged dreams

poetry

Turtle Tears

Turtle Tears

damp tracks mark the turtle’s
boxy leathery face
I ask the ranger about these secretions
turtle tears she says
then gives every explanation possible
that holds no feeling

someone asks
are we bothering her?
as another egg drops into the pile
oh no the ranger answers
we know she doesn’t mind
because she hasn’t stopped
what she was doing

I arch an eyebrow
considering my own labors
once they started
you just couldn’t stop

the next turtle chooses
to go back to the sea instead
scuffles her way toward the surf
until the researchers tackle her twice
pushing hard against her progress
digging their heels into the sand
to hold her still
while someone reads her tag

but they absentmindedly neglect to
write the numbers down
realize their mistake
and scurry to stop her again

of course
the saltwater tracks down her cheeks
are just water
instinctive
not grief
it’s easier for everyone
if it’s true

poetry

To the Mangled

To the Mangled

now we bow to the mangled
three-legged dogs
soldiers covered in scars
deckhands maimed by sharks
to those whose forms changed in an instant
bikers crushed by trucks
women falling in the shower on vacation in Cancun
boys fumbling with fireworks
to the souls who stayed whole
even after bodies were broken
after the slipped table saw blade
the faltering plastic surgeon
the heavy machinery suddenly backing
and right here
on this tropical island
to a cheerful white bird
unaccountably battered by a stick
in the rough hands of a brutal stranger

Cocky’s half the bird he was
paralyzed from the hips down now
dragging himself by his beak
blind in one eye
his legs twisted
tail covered in excrement
and still when you walk past
he calls out hopefully
“Hello, Cocky!”
and if you stop
he’ll laugh until you start, too,
or cry like a baby if you walk on

looking into his good eye
you see he’ll graciously accept
a gentle ruffle of his feathers and a kind word
and if you’ve peanuts
he’ll even tip his crest to you in thanks
his unwarranted trust
pains me every time

some souls
no matter how beat down
how twisted by fate
can’t help but continue to hope
to still cling to dignity
to make us all believe goodness still exists
to trust that despite their own suffering
there must be some joy left in the world