Tawanda Mulalu
I don’t watch myself, others
watch then draw. You draw
me with your lens—it asks
where my skin is bred, films
my right eye, its oddity: white
dot in pupil. Where a doctor
saw no harm, my mother eyed
its lonely milk. See me gently
inside while your lens seeks
my “white thoughts,” hidden
inside my pupil’s black. My
thoughts, I thought, were color-
less. Or I thought you thought
this. Or hoped this. Or what is
your lens’ draw of me. You
said you’d ask of the white dot.
And you ask of everything but
the white dot, the white dot’s
draw of everything else of my
skin—always this soft excuse
for everyone to ask me of every-
thing but me. My skin is every-
thing, is everything and me,
anything but me, is me—but
you ask. It does not belong to
you, I can’t make it belong to
you—and my girl makes films.
I write. Everyone must draw.
She is sometimes white. She is
sometimes not. And I am black,
I am sometimes not anything
but black. Is drawing like breath.
Breathe gaps between my lips.
Breathe gaps between my teeth.
My girl makes films. My girl is
not my girl. I am not my girl’s
boy, not your boy, and what is
being drawn if not who. And
who is anyone to draw but love.
Your lens here, my girl, my love—
is what you ask with it—of me—
of you of me—is it black. It is
nothing. It is almost me, almost
black. Coax it. And it breathes.
Touch me. And it breathes back.
from the book PLEASE MAKE ME PRETTY, I DON'T WANT TO DIE / Princeton University Press
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I think this poem is about failed love via racialization (but who knows what a poem is “about," and who knows if a poem is really “about” anything). What I find most interesting about it, long after its composition and motivating circumstance, is the speaker’s half-hearted attempt to feel seen despite the lens of the camera. But art probably isn’t about identification, anyway. Maybe that’s why the poem instead collapses into “touch” and “breath” at the end. 

Tawanda Mulalu on "Film Studies III"
Color portrait of a standing Amanda Gorman from a Harper's Bazaar article
"Amanda Gorman Has Big Dreams"

"Gorman’s interest in art was matched by a passion for politics. But she sees poetry as part of political work. Poets, she says, 'are working with a few syllables. We get the fewest amount of stones to throw to make the most impact. How can I say the most by saying the least?' She has stated often in interviews that her ultimate goal is to become president of the United States."

via HARPER'S BAZAAR
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Color photograph of the cover of Reginald Dwayne Betts' book, Felon
What Sparks Poetry:
Jeevika Verma on Reginald Dwayne Betts' Felon


"He claims the label prison gives him—felon—and says, look, I did make mistakes, and now I am dealing with the consequences. But look, also, at how we lend ourselves to the system. How we dehumanize the incarcerated man. How every time he tries to love, we remind him of when he didn’t—'What name for / this thing that haunts, this thing we become.'"
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