fill in the bla(_)ks
In [insert year] a black [man/woman/child/person]
was killed by [police, white supremacists, racists]
for existing
and there was a [photo/video/phone call]
shared to social media or heard about on the [street/radio].
We wept,
and people [excused/justified/demeaned]
[ ]’s death because [ ] once
[shoplifted/ran/smoked/talked back/had a broken taillight],
and they condemned the protests, called them
[riots/a waste of time/self-destructive],
misquoted [MLK/X/Tutu/Tubman],
praised [Trump/Bush/Nixon/Reagan/Jefferson], and told us
they don’t see color, that race had nothing to do with [situation].
Race had everything to do with [situation].
ongoing
black schools
give up our “English”
learn their English
because it is better
if we ignorant
using a language
they could control
they were wrong
police fire
killed a boy
children
arm themselves
police
kept shooting
hundreds dead
thousands injured
[ ]war
rioting burning spread
children won, went back
when the plan was scrapped
i remember
young people feel their power
i understand they throwing us a bone
black schools — inferior education
designed to make
better slaves
we was things in this country before we was people and still arent
livestock
slave
field hand
alligator bait
nigger
cheap labor
runaway
target
test subject
cadaver
criminal
coon
jezebel
mandingo
thug
sacrificial lamb
Ashley Elizabeth (she/her) is a writing consultant, teacher, and poet. Her works have appeared in SWWIM, Rigorous, and Zoetic Press, among others. Her chapbook, “you were supposed to be a friend,” is available with Nightingale & Sparrow. When Ashley isn’t serving as assistant editor at Sundress Publications or working as a member of the Estuary Collective, she habitually posts on Twitter and Instagram (@ae_thepoet). She lives in Baltimore with her partner.
Endnote: the middle section of this poem is an erasure for one of the pages of the novel “Waiting for the Rain,” by Sheila Gordon.