we keep finding blood

By Matthew L. Thompson

I heard in a Black boy town / there was a pool filled / with red / and the white people
loved / splashing in it / on summer days / I heard / last week the pool flooded / and the town was
drowned / rumor is / there will be a day / named / in its honor / everyone will get monday off / I
heard they are discussing / a parade / they want to line up all the Black boys / and make an
aisle of police / ready with guns cocked / in salute / they say they’re not supposed to shoot / but
you know / when they see brown hands / reaching for / wallet / phone / lover / the excuse is
always the same / I thought it was my taser / I thought it was the hulk / I thought we didn’t care
about them

Headshot of Matthew L. Thompson

Matthew L. Thompson is a stream of color and breathing, still, contradiction from Cleveland, Ohio, and a MFA candidate in Poetry at The New School. He wants his writing to fight, cry, moan, grieve, listen, shout and be as varied and full as he is in the flesh. He currently lives in Brooklyn, NY and is getting his life. Join him on his blog Unlearning Monday.

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