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Editor’s Note: Dr. Gregory Diggs wrote this poem in April 2015 when nationwide Black Lives Matter protests were occurring following the death of Freddie Gray...
One hundred, becomes ninety-eight,
becomes eighty-two, becomes sixty-one,
and so on. A corpse dripping blood
is still a corpse. Though if you gather
the drippings, you can make...
A new year starts
appearing as a blank slate
but its history is already written
in the dust of treaties,
the land-mine refuse of war,
the increased opulence of...
We must now amend our theories of desire,
our understanding of what transforms
flesh so that it may feed on the nectar
hidden deep within the recesses...
1.
Black plastic bag, no tote, no backpack
One pair of shoes, no socks, no laces
Plenty of sunshine today, no raincoat
One glove, one cold, bare hand
Toothache,...
The one on the left, with the pink backpack,
carrying the C-4, is wearing a headset
under that checked yellow scarf,
receiving final instructions.
The one on the...
You have the right to bear arms
to bear poverty
to bear discrimination.
You have the right to assemble
in free-speech zones
behind well-marked chain link fences.
You have the...