from Interventions for Women (Omnidawn, 2021)
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Minneapolis, Minnesota, and San Francisco, California, 2020.
I started writing this poem during the COVID-19 pandemic, several months after the May 25, 2020 murder of George Floyd, a Black man, by the white police officer Derek Chauvin along with the Minneapolis Police Department; after the dismantling of the summer sanctuary camp at Powderhorn Park by the City of Minneapolis; and during the catastrophic late-summer and early-fall wildfires in California, Oregon, and Washington.
.
the streets are young and vital
as ever
we owe a debt
the night
wet in the sick
dusk every history
grips a crowd
conscious or not
in its fist
conscious or not
of the known world
simply gone
(go into the poem
the crowd
the riot knowing
what you are
your daily deadly
potential
comrade
conspirator
sibling
lover
whatever you are
you’re no less lethal
liberalism’s
machinery
a sudden splitting
force
chemical agent’s
a neighbor
naked in its
collusion course
any neighbor
a cop
any discourse
a modality of the police
(what would it take to
say no to
withholding’s
economy
there was the adrenaline
of the refuge
in the heat
in the park
donation needs
included
………………
oral pain relief
cigarettes
28 & 29-gauge syringes
sharps containers
contact solution
emergency blankets
sleeping mats
towels
sleeping bags
sweatpants
………………
despite predictable
evictions
praxes of
provision
………………
new xl tshirts
duct tape
lanterns
pillows & cases
battery-powered fans
compression bandages
phone chargers
hand sanitizer
pop
………………
what we need is
something beyond
prescribed models
of what they
recognize as care
contagion time’s
a time for choosing
clarifying acts of love
and refusing
.
vermilion august
pummels thinner
distant branches
vessels leak
a white opacity
clots land in a lung
below sticky
water molecules
move with capillary
tubes drag hundreds
of gallons up each
coastal redwood
root systems
extend a hundred
feet entwine with
roots of others
even a downed tree
can survive
into our lungs
ash of accumulated
fuel loads forest
homes
where we’d loved
each other’s body
generously
under the canopy
on the spicy floor
after the lightning
surfaces of home
bathed in gold
the sky splashed
with corals
tens of thousands
ordered to go
before the month
mark
light went out
of the sky
noon was a
shallow dish
of ash
translucent
orange
glass turned
upside down
you cannot think your way
out of the problem
you’ve got to use fire
.
on the porch
in the heat
at a distance of
six feet
i said i’m
in your hands
she said it’s sweet
isn’t it
my bark thickens
with every year now
i keep your words
in my ear now
all i want is to touch you
tell me again what you did
notes
Sources quoted, referenced, or adapted, in order of appearance:
T.J. Tallie. “Asymptomatic Lethality: Cooper, COVID-19, and the Potential for Black Death.” Nursing Clio, June 8, 2020.
Idris Robinson. “How It Might Should Be Done.” Lecture delivered July 20, 2020.
Statement by Minneapolis Sanctuary Camp activist and resident. The Minneapolis Sanctuary Movement began at a Sheraton in South Minneapolis during the uprisings following George Floyd’s murder. For nearly two weeks, unsheltered people had access to safe, free housing at the hotel. When residents were suddenly evicted, some decided to set up a camp at Powderhorn Park. Community members supported the camp by organizing supply donations, meals, first aid, and harm-reduction support. In June, the Minneapolis park board named parks sanctuaries for unhoused people, a win for the Sanctuary Movement. But then in July, under pressure from local homeowners, the park board and the Minneapolis Police Department began evicting people. By the middle of August, the city had evicted all remaining residents of Powderhorn Park.
Elizabeth Shogren. “A Century of Fire Suppression Is Why California Is in Flames.” Mother Jones, December 12, 2017.
Reprinted with permission from Omnidawn Publishing.