The difference between fixation and contentment
is being ready to ablate
yourself
instead of yourself.
I am a gunshot and a dead black face and shoulders for miles,
the only liquid spits onto dry lips without
reason, his blood, the whiteness of
lost magic. How does one make power
of hatred? With kisses, bones
in Queens the boy with his cop shoes
said there are tapes to prove that
this defense didn't size up his color.
That police-forcing white man
satisfied the one black woman who meant to drag his frame over
hot coals until she lined her womb with cement.
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