Did you hear about the Black man? The Black woman? Black boy? The Black girl gone missing? Kidnapped. From thoughts and prayers. From the news. A child turned memory turned muted turned into a body, found. In the woods. Dress torn. Did you hear about the Black man? The Black woman? Black boys? With a rope? From a tree? Bodies becoming ornaments. Dismissed then silenced then overlooked then added to the number of Black bodies who never came home. Did you hear about the Black man? The Black woman asleep in her home? Startled by a home invader who shot…wait…that’s not how this goes. A warrant, a right, a wrong place, wrong time. Another body, another girl, another name to say. Another boy, another woman, erased but, did you hear about the Black man? Hands raised. Trying to explain. Gun pulled and aimed at him, did you hear? He ran. To safety. Shots fired. Ran, frightened, to his mother while screaming her name. Shots fired. Ran until he couldn’t breathe. Shots fired. He ran and ran and ran but could not find his mother in time. His mother who could not breathe when she said have you seen my baby? On the news saying they killing us! That they didn’t even try to understand. Oh, you’re tired of hearing all that. What about the one about the Black man, shot in the back? Gang violence, lost cause, worth nothing. Killed to warn, protect, defend? Timeless.
