DEAR WILLIAM

by Geoffrey Philp

"Relationships evolve. Friendship endures."

—Prince William, Duke of Cambridge

I hope I'm not breaking any royal protocols, 

which in my father's time would've gotten us killed, 

strung up on the gallows like Daddy Sharpe, Paul Bogle, 

George William Gordon—heroes who were martyred 

at the king's pleasure for demanding the right to rule

ourselves, a stake in the wealth your empire robbed

and vowed never to return a farthing to unwashed rebels.

And now, you've come into my yard, claiming to be a friend? 

Tell me, William, what kind of friend enslaves another friend, 

pillages and loots family heirlooms of his friend's ancestors, 

brainwashing generations of descendants with a one-sided story 

without claiming responsibility for the plight of the survivor's

welfare, and after four hundred years still can't say he's sorry

with reparations? No, William. This relationship must end.

Author’s Note: My “Dear William” letter to the Duke of Cambridge. There goes my knighthood and invitation to Buckingham Palace.

Geoffrey Philp is the author of five books of poetry, two collections of short stories, three children's books, and two novels. His next collection of  poems, Archipelagos (Peepal Tree Press), uses Sylvia Wynter’s readings of Cesaire and Foucault along with Amitav Ghosh's paradigm to explore the connection between colonialism, capitalism, and Christianity in the Plantationocene. Twitter: @GeoffreyPhilp Instagram: @geoffreyphilp

SONG OF THE MOUNTAINTOP, REMOVED

by Peggy Turnbull

Mountaintop Removal Site in Pickering Knob, West Virginia. Image source: iLoveMountains.org

Coal sparkles
where the miner’s lamp hits  
plants wait in darkness
millions of years
transform into sequined shards
burn
become electric

no more easy pillage
no more bolts of velvet
crammed into caverns

thin black ribbons
weave beneath
Appalachian forests
too small to mine underground
too precious to ignore

where clouds hang
between branches
where the mystery
of day unfolds
say good bye
to the tree frog’s song
clear cut these trunks
explode the earth’s crust
let machines like carnivorous insects
rip off the mountain’s head
eat its slender bituminous bed
toss leftovers
into rushing creeks
alongside

a higher intelligence
wills it
for jobs
for corporate wealth
mountains
become flatland
coal
exists no more

Peggy Turnbull has been recently published in Eunoia Review, Rat's Ass Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, and is forthcoming in Muddy River Poetry Review. She made her home in West Virginia for 26 years, but now lives in Wisconsin, where she is a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets.