ALEXANDER AGGISON
Silent Majority
Inspired by the inner-city penology of Anslinger Drug Law discussed in the book Black Silent Majority by Michael Javen Fortner.
She is black, like hearts that refuse to refute.
Calling of what wrought with resolve,
a prophecy a dream, a nail, a string.
Force to whim and seam: She is black.
Black Mamba? Wait for the growing pains to proclaim societal grief.
Patrol cars whisper unfound sermons into one ear of the favella. A favella made
to have it come out the other
with terrors I can’t see and still I listen. Met the motherland in the roots and something wholesome like a life of love, yet distant and more peaceful. I held this fear and think of positives.
A bird in flight, flock of a big white cloud. Preserve
a skin tone and like that, the Jitterbug and Sharecrops stretch like roots into two. I resist because I could song and dance making no advance in chorus chants of dense.
Siblings, siblings.
Holistic vigor on the backroads. Downtrodden actions take vision where hearts grieve
over sand and heat climbing wind and catching sail.
Throw my hands up at the abundance of the world’s work.
Disable my punishment. Learned my lesson. Disarm any doubt that your skin took part in Ghetto Necrophilia.
Like the dead ocean tide see to it that; the moment I return to where memory likes to dissolve to next of kin.
Are we all on novelty over nuance?
“What’s genocidal?” an attempt at rhythm to match Samba. Sleep: an abomination not granted
to works of art that take up arms in a place between “Black” and “Satan”.
WCC POETRY CLUB 