The Changing
and
The Aftermath

The Changing

I never wanted to be a poet
It was one notch above jumping out of an airplane
At the bottom of a long list of things to explore during this lifetime

Until . . .

There was a knee
Followed by “I can’t breathe”
And it changed me

I don’t know where the words come from
They seem to arrive as nattering intruders
Spinning around my head squealing “capture me, capture me”

The grief and injustice are hard to speak
Yet silence will ensure its repetition
Never doubt the world can be upended in just 8 minutes and 46 seconds

You see . . .

There was a knee
Followed by “I can’t breathe”
And it changed me

So I express my feelings in ways never imagined
Letting the pain, emotion and tears fall to the page
Praying that one word, one phrase, one poem startles a listening ear

Because . . .

There was a knee
Followed by “I can’t breathe”
Giving birth to poetry
Will you be changed with me?

The Aftermath

(Lake Street and Minnehaha Avenue, Minneapolis, June 1, 2020)

You come to gawk at the twisted metal and shattered dreams

You come to try and understand what is not understandable

You come to dance and pray for that is your source of comfort

You come to protest the snuffing out of living beings

You come to snap photos and selfies to splatter on Facebook pages

You come to grieve the days, months and years that have led us here

You come to step over the invisible line to a land where “those people” live

But will you come here to make sure we never have to come here again?