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Ungrief

                            for Marco McMillian, Steen Fenrich, and too many others…
I.
Let’s start with the body. 
The body’s been burned. 
The body was dragged, 
mutilated—the eyes gouged,
faced pressed
into the curb.
The body’s been beaten, 
with vigor, as though
the killer
were beating something out of himself— 
the body a proxy. 

The body was dumped, 
days later
next to a levee.
The body was found
near the Mississippi river, 
sprawled— 
a kind of baptism.


II.
              The devil is running
                                  rampantly             seeking 
               whom      he           may          devour.

The devil’s made his home here 
in Mississippi, the delta
river basin his mouth— 
wide, waiting, wanting to swallow 
anyone
who gets too close.

That boy done fell in.

                                                                Love the sinner, hate the sin.

Sin: without; an innate
lack; a fundamental 
emptiness.

(into nothingness) 

That boy done fell in.


III.
He wasn’t the only one.
Another boy was deprived of his tongue
                                                                  his torso 
                                                                  his pelvis 
                                                                  his lung
and the skull read “gay nigger #1”

But  what does it mean to do violence to what  is nothing?

“gay nigger” as metaphor. 
“gay nigger” as absence.
“gay nigger” as modernity’s shadow.
“gay nigger number…”

But  what does it mean to do violence to what  is nothing?


by Tyrone S. Palmer

Tyrone S. Palmer is a Brooklyn-born, Chicago-based writer and PhD student in African American Studies at Northwestern University. He (occasionally) enjoys things. Follow him on Twitter @yngblksocrates.

ISSN 2157-8079
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