We Are Remarkably Loud Not Masked

young Jesse Washington — even though you     on the wooden stick cross of fire bitten charred cut & burned        5 minute jury April 15, 1916    Waco, Texas shackled & dragged — lynched You live on Trayvon Martin face down red juice on the lawn clutching candy rushing home the hoodie the hoodie the prowler shooter said upside down shredded night because of you     you we march touch hands lean back leap forth against the melancholy face of tanks & militia    we move walk become we become           somehow Eric Garner we scribble your name sip your breath    now our breath cannot be choked off our skin cannot be flamed      totality cannot be cut off each wrist each bone cannot be chained to the abyss gnashing levers & polished killer sheets of steel we are remarkably loud not masked rough river colors that cannot be threaded back hear us Freddie Gray here                                         with us Jesse Washington Trayvon Martin Michel Brown the Black Body holy Eric Garner  all breath Holy we weep & sing as we write as we mobilize & march under the jubilant solar face