In Which I Travel to Alternate Dimensions in Search of Healing After Another Black Man is Shot by Police


In one dimension, I mail a dead bird

to every white person who reposts the video


In another I cry

for the first time in two summers

It is always summer

In one I eat fruits, gorge myself,

vomit, and with the vomit spell names

  Redoshi

  Tamir

  Aunt Sarah

  Boy

  Allthesame

  To Be Sold & Let

  Louis


In one I meet every slave 

that ever jumped ship.

They have turned into Tahitian oyster pearls

In the next I sell the pearls to a white man for one month’s rent

In each it is already summer,

unyieldingly hot

In one it’s dry heat, a high

of 105 degrees

like in Sedona, the July

Philando and Alton died. I pretend

I’m part of the Red Rocks.

They let me sleep there a while

I dream

like Martin, like mountaintop

  but don’t wake up dancing

In one I’m watching a classic Western

but every cowboy is black 

In one I’m watching a classic Western

but every cowboy is Black, capital B

Every black is capital

Speaking of dreams,

when I was a child

from time to time

I dreamt

I was falling

in blackness

always rolling forward

building momentum, but

somehow never managing

to go anywhere.

      At least there

      I am a child.

      In some I’m not

      or think I might be or

      want to be but

      can’t tell for sure

In one I yanvalou dance at a cop’s funeral

In one the funeral’s mine

In one I cut the hair I’ve been growing all summer,

sever the chances 

I’ll be seen as a threat

In one I heal

from the men

but not the women, the children

The babies

brownskinned

buried

A white news anchor called Michael Brown a man the other day

it’d been six years since he died but he was

younger than me I still think of myself as a kid

ain’t I a kid, still?

My father always talks about how I’m his only son

and I can’t tell if it’s a thing of pride or a thing of fear

There’s always fear, stuck

unmoving as a body on the asphalt.

A kid on the asphalt

A man on the asphalt

It’s still summer

In one I ask God “When?” and hear nothing

but smell smoke

In another He passes the phone to Noah, who says

Now

I think of that line from Beloved

All of it is now it is always now

though there’s something, especially,

about August

The birds come back stamped

Return to Sender.

In more than one there is no God

In every dimension I’m so angry I shake.

In every dimension I’m a flesh-

heavy bough I shake

the leaves from me I shake

the bodies from me I shake

the sweat from me

the summer from me

the blood from me 

the time from me

I’m bare now, only the whisper

of something. A place

I’ve been before.

A dream I dreamt

a few times

as a child