My money being
The nonviolent part of rage
A kind of courtesy worship
Or caste-system blues
Bullet casings in the comb
I learned their language immediately
I watched an animal explode into hundreds of flags
Judging by my wounds
The government has counted me in
Face to face
With a police officer’s family history
My anecdote is only just beginning
This Issue
September 23, 2021
Conceiving the Future
The Well-Blown Mind
Hemingway’s Consolations