they used to be afraid of red fruit
the apples were sour, but really, they were tomatoes
take a bite of God, like that, which prayer works
are we purified now, taking chunks of the cross
red, vining across a dry piece of land
a field of our sin, within
I am strangling myself with a crucifix.
summer of change, a vibrating door
opened in the mind, but my eyes
not closed, hoping another chance
at rest, could test my faith
a serpent slept under bed
I cannot take a piece of fruit
from a stranger, though
they promised an end
of fracturing in scattering mind
thought
thought
upon thought
unable to keep them at bay
hand me that bitterness
I’ll swallow down
drown, safely into darkness—amen.
after William Daniels’ “Unfinished Business”
– part of the exhibition “Threads of Truth”
“I created this wall hanging and in the background of the quilt are the names of African Americans that had been killed by lynching from 1865 to 1965” – William Daniels
never leave
the edges of your quilt
unfinished.
unbound.
raw.
a wall, hanging with 100 years of names
covering emancipation proclamation
to the end of the civil rights movement
a history scribing the background of everyone’s lives.
corner memorials we see all the time
unique through urban environments
pop up memorials at the same exact spot
northwest corner of 139th and lenox.
hotspot for the gunned down, stabbed
an artifact, modern-day grief and healing
painted on our hands.
no one can cover up the way the neighborhood was
before gentrification,
but what happens to the art after
the neighborhoods gentrify?
these murals of the neighborhood heroes
are a working memorial.
but everyone is still so quiet.
why is no one mad about
the memory handing the truth over
to the streets.