How to be a white American
this year: shift your stance
and consider the view of the drain
from inside the drain.
Think of a sunrise viewed from here
where sunset’s in progress. Bend down
and smell the thrown rocks, the landed bricks,
tear gas floating across the soil.
Get out of the hold
your skin has on you: armor
you may have counted on,
tattooed spells of protection
you say you never knew existed —
and if you admitted that you knew,
you denied
that you could read them.
It’s not fun here right now.
It’s not going to be fun,
not supposed to be fun.
Never fear: you will someday
dine and screw
and find joy in small things
as always. Just don’t
try to shift back
to where you were standing
before all this:
the ground there won’t be as solid
as it used to appear.
Dark Matter 