Pantoum for Black Boys
Pantoum for Black Boys
after 'African Night Market' by Walter Battiss (1965)
As the sky’s colors separate like oil in water,
black men turn blue in the sunset.
Flies hover over the tables,
circle like buzzards; fruit left for dead.
Black men turn blue in the sunset
like cotton dipped in indigo. Police
circle like buzzards, fruit left for dead –
a red smudge on a white sheet.
Like cotton dipped in indigo, police
lights spotlight the streets;
a red smudge on a white sheet
marks the end of childhoods.
Lights spotlight the streets,
but the dark squares of sidewalk
mark the end of childhoods,
and the mothers have nothing
but the dark squares of sidewalk
to blame. We light candles, we pray,
and the mothers have nothing
but an empty room to fill, to lock away,
to blame. We light candles, we pray
for a night without bloodshed, a night that is nothing
but an empty room to fill, to lock away. I want to be you
for a night. Without bloodshed. A night that is nothing
but a trip to the gas station in a hoodie. Damn,
I want to be you
as the sky’s colors separate like oil in water.
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