April Poem 20 (sample)

An open letter to Michael T. Slager

In memory of Walter L. Scott


It was the standing there that fucked me up

your body upright, right & erect—how many


ways can you let someone die? Beneath you,

your very stand/stance your whole vertical shit


stiff & still, shifted eyes—but body cocked up

up turned—closer to sky, to wings & flit fuck


you man & the way your spine stood still, firm

all those vertebrae lined up, a house beneath


your skin where you're at home, confident.