by Diana Cole
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| A patron of a laundromat near Cup Foods watching the Derek Chauvin trial on Monday. Credit: Joshua Rashaad McFadden for The New York Times, April 6, 2021 |
for George Floyd
Nothing can be true, so the dog barks all night
missing the man who feeds him.
Into the fire go the stars. If the garbage is collected
in the morning, the moon will go too.
Without evidence of insects, birds have nothing to eat.
He’s talking so he’s fine.
Nothing but a man, a sizable guy who loves his Mama,
who lost his Mama.
I kneel in case the sun will intervene in time.
Inside the car, the back seat is a thick darkness.
A black man could get lost if the air is handcuffed.
Even if he pleads 20 times, he is under the influence,
under suspicion, under the knee, undertaken.
All for 20 dollars, supposing that, even if, as long as…
Diana Cole, a Pushcart Prize nominee, has had poems published in numerous journals including Poetry East, Spillway, the Tar River Review, the Cider Press Review, GBH Public Radio, Friends Journal, Verse Daily, and the Main Street Rag, and upcoming in Crab Creek Review. Her chapbook Songs By Heart was published in 2018 by Iris Press. She is an editor for The Crosswinds Poetry Journal and a member of Ocean State Poets whose mission is to encourage the reading, writing and sharing of poetry.
