Wednesday, October 20, 2021

THEY CALLED HIM A "F-ING N—"

by Rémy Dambron


Ahmaud Arbery's aunt, Theawanza Brooks, says, "Nobody has the decision to make as far as being the judge, jury and executioner." Her nephew was shot and killed in 2020. The trial is set to begin Monday in Brunswick, Ga. —NPR, October 18, 2021. Photo: NICOLE BUCHANAN FOR NPR


Once again, it falls 
on Georgians to guide the way

to be our nation’s conscience,
filtering out the noise, the hyperbole,

the lies.

Once again, it falls
on Georgians to decipher the truth

to act not on our prejudices or partisanships, but on our collective

humanness.

Once again, it falls
on Georgians to rise,

to stand as one and affirm 
that this man was not a thief,

was not burglar, was not a prowler, was not a criminal, was not a threat,

just a jogger.

Once again, it falls 
on Georgians to convince the courts

not to fear him for his skin,
not to judge him for their rage,

but to picture them standing over his bloodied body, shotgun still smoking

with the gall to call him that horrible word.

Once again it falls,
on Georgians to uphold the law,

to make right the wrongs 
of centuries of recklessness,

of supremacy.

To make good on the little remaining scraps of a social contract we used to

cherish.

Once again it falls,
on Georgians and a jury of their peers 

to demand that justice be done 
but never done,

screaming one more time
into the void of voids

enough is enough.


Rémy is a teacher and Portland-based activist whose work focuses on denouncing political corruption and advocating for social and environmental justice. With the help of his loving wife and chief editor, his poetry has appeared in What Rough Beast, Poets Reading the News, Writers Resist, Society of Classical Poets, and The New Verse News