Noun Heavy

Black, White, boxed-in
Stuck in a dream again it seems
Those marching are not walking dead
“Not dead yet!” scream the police
“Not dead yet!” screamed the doctors, teachers, and lawyers
You’re not dead yet!
I know you hear me, be wary, it’s coming
June’s been trifling
police been rifling our backs, doctors leave us dying of heart attacks
Knees are pressed heavy and slow on our necks
“I can’t believe it!” they say
They’ve always said I’m sorry
But the mothers and fathers and sons and daughters said
ENOUGH
Those marching are not walking dead
They’re paving roads ahead to get out of the illusion the other created to keep up captive
Scared of the reciprocal from brown individuals
They call us combative and attack us.
Crispus Attucks
Call us addicts
Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids.
Now look what you went and did
Woke up the world

Barbara Ghartey is an educator at Boston Arts Academy.