Collective Unrest

 

just do it

May 29, 2019

Tell me all the shame your white skin
has brought you in our culture.

Tell me all the plights of your fair complexion,
starting with sunburn and ending with bad sunburn.

Tell me refraining from compliments
is a hindrance to your professional life.

Tell me that kneeling is the most
disrespectful act a man can perform.

Tell me a piece of fabric and a song are more
important than the dignity of a human person.

Tell me things are just jokes
unless they’re happening to you.

Tell me you know centuries of hate and fear
because of your skin color.

Tell me it’s racist to support
a movement for black lives.

Tell me the worst thing you stand to lose
is your reputation.

Tell me a protest is only constitutional
when it’s not interfering with your life.

But the last thing,
I don’t want you to tell me.

No, tell him.
Tell a black man.

Look a black man in the eyes and tell him what you value more:
your white comfort, or his beating heart.

 

 

A.H. Lewis is a 26-year-old poet from Pittsburgh, PA, with an English degree from Allegheny College and a Disney addiction cultivated since birth. Her first collection of poetry, The Smallness of Everything Else, is forthcoming from Dorrance Publishing in spring 2019, along with other pieces published in various publications and social media accounts. For Lewis, there is no weather too warm, no blanket too soft, and no bowl of gnocchi too big.

Please follow and like us:
error
In category:
Newer Post

Five Poems by Juliette Sebock

Strictly Taboo You decide you want me because you’ve decided I’m a whore. And you believe it because that’s what he told you, That it was all me and he couldn’t resist the rose quartz and rosemary, Mother to the…
Read
Older Post

Elegy for the Black Man Who Survived a Police Encounter Today

I thought you were dead when I first saw you. Ghost of my dreams, you are what I see when the news tells me who's laying in their pool of blood this time. But you are not where I imagined,…
Read
Random Post

To The Nazis Who Marched On Charlottesville

We will replace you. The torches you carried only provided better lighting, allowing us to put faces to the hate-filled souls we already knew were there. We will call you out. You don’t get to spew vicious, viscous venom then…
Read
Random Post

Hit Me Again

I carried my anger everywhere. This hot lump of rage, tucked into my shirt pocket. I liked to have it near me. I liked feeling its warmth. Then one day, I lost it. I reached for it, and it wasn’t…
Read
Random Post

Isaiah

Like the future, few things can be said for the poem. But like the future, a few things can be said: Either revolution will sweep the streets— bare hurricane winds across tarmac flattening banks into barricades against tanks clacking down…
Read
Random Post

Flying Home From Indiana After Driving Past the KKK House in Irvington

I want to tell you it’s comforting to cry your eyes out on an airplane because the jet turbines to your left and the raindrops beating against the window make your tears sound faraway, but I feel like a birthday…
Read