Holy

1.

Always, they begin

as units of prayer

in sleep

watery images

then I wake

seeing them

crowded together

in a headline

Officers in Bronx Fire 41 Shots,

And an Unarmed Man Is Killed

this lacerated tongue

thirsts to remember

the names of all the faces

hidden behind the barrel of a gun

loaded blasted

into national memory

becoming caesuras.

Each name is

a body craving

wholeness.

2.

These eyes shutter

imagining

a different script

playing out behind their lids.

3.

When I wake tomorrow

Let there be a riot of birds

outside my window

Let there be crows

flying South in horseshoe formation

Let there be Peruvian musicians

with their wooden flutes

& African drummers

& children double-dutching

over liberated firehydrants

Let there be Nina Simone’s

“Mississippi Goddamn” remixed

Let these words serve

a different master/narrative

Let sound shoot outside this mouth

echoing in every

walk home

dark alley

(neighbor)hood

May this poem

lodge inside your breast.

Copyright Credit: Abdul Ali, "Holy" from Trouble Sleeping. Copyright © 2015 by Abdul Ali. Reprinted by permission of New Issues Press.

Source: Trouble Sleeping (New Issues Press, 2015)