A Refusal to Mourn the Deaths, by Gunfire, of Three Men in Brooklyn
By John Murillo
"And at times, didn't the whole country try to break his skin?"
—Tim Seibles
You strike your one good match to watch its bloom
and jook, a swan song just before a night
wind comes to snuff it. That's the kind of day
it's been. Your Black & Mild, now, useless as
a prayer pressed between your lips. God damn
the wind. And everything it brings. You hit
the corner store to cop a light, and spy
the trouble rising in the cashier's eyes.
TV reports some whack job shot two cops
then popped himself, here, in the borough, just
one mile away. You've heard this one before.
In which there's blood. In which a black man snaps.
In which things burn. You buy your matches. Christ
is watching from the wall art, swathed in fire.
Copyright Credit: John Murillo, "A Refusal to Mourn the Deaths, by Gunfire, of Three Men in Brooklyn" from Kontemporary Amerikan Poetry. Copyright © 2020 by John Murillo. Reprinted by permission of Four Way Books, www.fourwaybooks.com.
Source: Kontemporary Amerikan Poetry (Four Way Books, 2020)