Free Chasing Utopia by Nikki Giovanni

over
    He didn’t seem dangerous
    Just mean
    I picked my mother up from behind
    Sort of like a heavy sack of flour
    Or birdseed or even gravel for the pond
    And carried her out
    Then when I sat her down we were back in the kitchen again
    I took her to a vehicle
    I want to say a “car” but it wasn’t a car
    No no don’t answer until midnight I won’t be ready until then
    And I drove away
    It was as curvy as all get-out—a dirt road that was
    Actually a lovely brown
    But when we stopped we were back
    In the kitchen
    My sister was looking
    And I was trying to say something
    Which came out all crazy
    So this 2 is not a poem
    Because if it were a poem
    I would put my head in your lap
    And cry and cry
    But since it is not a poem it must be
    A painting Still Life with Crying Girl
    And what we would see is a bowl of half-eaten raspberries
    Mint leaves drenched in the sugary liquid
    And a little fly
    Poised in the corner
    At midnight attracted by the fly
    The common vampire bat
    On the light of a moonbeam
    Will come to hold my head

ROBERT CHAMPION
    (Who Died at the Hands of His Bandmates)
    The ever restless ocean
    Beating against sea
    And sky
    Grinds, no gently rubs,
    The bones of Robert Champion
    Into the salt
    Of his ancestors
    Driven into the blue
    Through Middle Passage
    We know the torture
    Of slavery
    And apartheid
    We know the terror
    Of Jim Crow
    Who would imagine The Band
    Would kill
    Are we having too many
    Black men trying to sing
    A praise song
    Too many Black men trying
    To show a better self
    So many Black men
    That we can spare them
    I don’t think so
    There can be no excuse
    For this murder
    There can be no I didn’t
    Realize he was dying
    How could you not know
    When you act like nazis
    Jesus is crucified
    How could you not understand
    This child should have lived
    How could Black men do this
    to each other?

ALLOWABLES
    I killed a spider
    Not a murderous brown recluse
    Nor even a black widow
    And if the truth were told this
    Was only a small
    Sort of papery spider
    Who should have run
    When I picked up the book
    But she didn’t
    And she scared me
    And I smashed her
    I don’t think
    I’m allowed
    To kill something
    Because I am
    Frightened

FLYING IN KIGALI
    Or
War Is Never Right
    For some reason
    Or perhaps
    None
    The dew was just lifting
    Which is not unreasonable
    But something for no reason
    Made me walk
    In my house slippers
    To the little dogwood tree
    Recently planted
    By the shed
    As I watered the tree
    And, frankly, took joy
    In the grass coming up
    Where I had tried
    For several years to no avail
    To grow this little spot of green
    I spotted a furry thing
    Without thinking
    I turned the hose on it
    Assuming it was a mushroom
    Or some of the mold
    That occasionally forms
    On top of the mulch
    I know there could not
    Have been a scream because
    Screams aren’t possible
    For little birds
    But there was a protest
    My heart broke
    This little robin was out of the nest
    Before she could fly
    And I live with a Yorkie
    Who was sniffing the yard
    I grabbed the dog
    Taking her back inside
    And returned
    To understand
    This little bird would die
    The mother was overhead now
    And I put the bird in a basket
    To take her beyond the reach
    Of Alex though surely
    Into the paw
    Of one of the cats that roam
    Some will say: It’s Mother Nature’s
    way Some will say: It’s Natural
    Some will say: It is out of your hands
    There is Nothing you can do about it
    But it still breaks my heart
    To know that little robin
    Cannot be saved

TEREZIN: WHERE THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND DIED BUT IT WAS NOT A DEATH CAMP
    I don’t want you
    To watch me sleeping I don’t want you
    To look worriedly
    Over me
    In some hospital bed
    Tied up with tubes
    Laboring over my breath
    Until I take that last one
    And release my energy
    There was a deer
    In the middle of Highway 81
    She had been hit
    And could not run
    While waiting for some uninterested trucker
    She held up her head
    And