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Jason Allen-Paisant

for Ahmaud Arbery
You leave the house and head to the gym. You ride the metro.
You listen to some music. You read a novel
                  try to act cool
like you belong here      you’re so French

You travel in the underground     going from side to side of the city
The darkness helps    the white noise in a crowd
                  The crowd must be thick
or you will see your body

                  raising suspicions by walking
                                     you do not want that

But then you get to another part of the city
                  and re-emerge, and you’re hit with images again
of yourself in the space, and yourself

                  is two beautiful dark-skinned children
just innocently sitting on a bench waiting,
not bothering anyone, just waiting &
                  you want to weep because they are so beautiful

                  and nobody should be wrong to be
so beautiful in this world
& that beauty lies there knowing that one day       it will lift
itself from their bodies
                  like a question
You mourn the future loss of this being,
so full in space, so occupying, so sitting before you
on the bench. You re-emerge into this life
raising suspicions again.

                                                                *

They’re from Mauritania they say, brother and sister,
     They sit there on a park bench
along the busy way &
look at me      with doe eyes    a look of discovery

in the fine grain of skin, the perfect lines of teeth
the stillness, as if no language had yet been made
                  as if the first day on earth.
                  They look into this world
deciding whether to enter

nobody should be wrong to be
                  so beautiful in this world

And he’s running right now...
There he goes right now!

                                                                *

So you try      not to act too muscular       not to look too big
                  muscular looks very threatening on your skin

you want to walk hard, jog hard, be hard
but today you think about your mother

you owe it to her to protect her from this
     what you can do     what can be done to you

you’ve just come out of the gym      you feel fit
you feel strong     you feel large and full of blood

but you small up yourself     and keep going
                  you read endless messages about your body
you’re consuming your body
All the images fill you

And he’s running right now...
There he goes right now!
from the book SELF-PORTRAIT AS OTHELLO / Carcanet Press
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Frontispiece to Phillis Wheatley's Poems on Various Subjects
"This Little Book of Poetry Made History"

"There is a mystery about a little book of poetry that was published in the 1770s and is now being sold at an online auction in New York. Where was it from the time it first went into print until the 1940s? There is no mystery about the book itself....The poems were the work of Phillis Wheatley, a formerly enslaved teenager, who has been enjoying renewed attention lately, thanks in part to a recent biography that said that Poems on Various Subjects was the first book in English by a person of African descent."

via THE NEW YORK TIMES
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Cover image of Claire Wahmanholm's new collection, "Meltwater"
What Sparks Poetry:
Claire Wahmanholm on "Deathbed Dream with Extinction List"


"I love writing abecedarians. I love that they make me reach for words I would not ordinarily reach for; I love that they gesture at abundance without exhausting it, that they leave more unsaid than said. I love that they open the doors of my existing knowledge and invite me into the dictionary, the thesaurus, the encyclopedia, any number of archives. I love how democratic they are: even the trickiest, least common letter must be used, and the heavy hitters may only appear once." 
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