The Bardsmith

Today, I shredded a whole person away.

For decades, I stored him in bags

and in folders,

and in red welds with folders in them

carefully noting which part of him was which

Taxes

DMV

Divorce Papers

Student loan docs

Employment

I had no folder for dreams.

8 pages at a time I fed him into a basic Amazon

shredder

but the damn thing kept overheating

You see…

I really needed him gone, but

I could not just discard him whole

He was me after all, and everything I

thought mattered about me

but that was wrong and this isn’t.

Also, I needed to be sure

that’s why I chose a shredder.

A life gone by that no

longer applies to the present

should be discarded and left

unwitnessed.

So page by page

I fed him into the shredder

(which I found stayed cool as long

As I didn’t rush the process)

and I dumped him into

several White Pine Breeze scented

Hefty Ultra Strong 30-gallon Multipurpose

bags and I put him in the alley next to the

then he closed his eyes and

stared into the sunlight

remembering friends long gone

those who still remain

the voice of his grandmother

the first person to ever make him

aware of it.

the trees that gave

him a home and a place to become

the warmth of Spring days

the laughter of children at play

the cold city streets in Winter

the breeze atop the Ferry in Summer

he remembers dying a thousand times

and living only for less than a decade.

All he ever wanted

was a six-figure salary

a German car

and a place of his own

He found his freedom in his Creator

and it was more beautiful than he could

ever imagine.

Donald Trump has been elected and this poem wont age well

Because it will all be okay in the

Eyes of those who are happy

With the final tally.

For the record, this country is

Sexist as fuck.

Racist as fuck.

And this vote proved just that.  

It voted for him and set him upon the world.

Had it been anyone else

I perhaps could sit here

And say, well, maybe they got

It right.

This poem wont age well

because I’ll never believe that

but in the eyes of history

I will be proved wrong.

This is what it took to move them

To secure them.

The police couldn’t do their job

until he was elected,

now they are everywhere.

This was a final blow from America.

A hearty fuck you, to all who

stood on empathy and dared to

be saviors of an ungrateful nation.

Last night, at 2:00 am,

my neighbors set off fireworks in celebration. 

The time signifying the hour the race was called.

I will remember that with all my senses for all my days.

For their sakes, I hope it was all worth it.

I hope they feel better about the world

they are about to create.

But we are all overacting because

I’m telling you

This poem wont age well

because they will say

I was scared,

As if I didn’t see them before they chose their dictator.  

How they came at everyone violently and intently.

How they made us all feel as if we were

Inherently evil because we existed.

How they tried to make us all feel as if they were the ones who were oppressed.

I’ ve lived in their communities and I knew better

They are far from oppressed.

But… 

The real problem was the one who did not identify with them.

There was something wrong with living well

And being well and being unbothered and

taking up space in spaces where we had a right to be.

We were, harassed in natural spaces, on planes, in churches,

On trains, on cruises, in nail salons, inside of Walmarts

And shot and killed in Supermarkets,

I mean you would have thought it was 1960 what

1960 who—Hey, the motor city is burning y’all or is that

Ferguson---speaking of which--I wish motherfuckers had not let up

But I know why you did.

Because like we did after they beat Rodney King half to death

We believed them when they said they were sorry.

The nation lied to us again

As it has done for centuries. 

Oh yes, I will remember.

But this poem won’t age well

Because everyone will be happy.

The bigotry, hatred, racial harassment, and the war on

all that makes autonomous and secure within us.

All that gives us what we truly desire

the safety to be

will now be returned to us in a way that makes it more palatable

for their consumption,

now that they are free to repress the world.

My heart aches in a way that is nearly impossible to bear

To know the level of suffering that is about to be

Enacted on the people of this city, the people of this state,

The people of this country, the people of this world.

The actions taken over the next four years will reverberate for decades

It is not hyperbole

In every way I will do my part

to not take part.

But this poem will not age well. 

The victors will make it all well. 

The press will be all ears. 

It will write of how things are just fine.

Yesterday, I went to Orchard Beach to have a cup of coffee and to watch the sun.

I was set upon by a NYPD officer as if I was a criminal.

First, I was I thought that was funny. 

here I am, a 30-year professional in my craft. 

A true master of what I do.

And that makes me no less susceptible to being criminalized in my own neighborhood.

And It has been that way.

And it will be that way

Until the poor are embraced as a part of the community that must be cared for.

There are no elites among us. Not anywhere here.

Not true ones.

The accomplished among us all had bosses to answer to. 

The true oppressors---answer to no one.

Nor will they.

The nation.

The true nation

The nation I grew up in.

The nation I learned about in

Public School 200,

Thomas Jefferson Middle School

Intermediate School 10,

Public School 46,

Teaneck High School,

Howard University and Hunter College

Is no more.

We are back to square one in so many ways

So I will be Malcolm looking out the window with the joint

until further notice.

No Justice.

We will never visit another

These are my special places

My shrines

My haunts

Where I find myself

Where I turn myself

Into myself

And become Divine

Nikki taught me that

If nothing we share is sacred

then we should never

walk into the Blue Note