Voting: Atlanta Edition

BIPOC hands putting ballots in a ballot box.

I see people dying

hear brothers calling for their mothers

smell the flyblown excrement of bureaucratic justifications

feel planetary cylinders misfiring

taste dwindling ice in my oceanic drink

know it’s almost too late

If it rhymes with duck

looks like a

& the people who do it just don’t give a

you can add ed

I see a new world in order

hear cries of injured Asian amahs

smell politically-orphaned children at the border

feel violated like Stone Mountains and Black Hills

taste bitterness

know nothing but my name

Cause’ If it looks like a

acts like a

& the people who do it just don’t give a

then you know it‘s a

But I see melanated people voting

hear diasporic ancestors turning in oceanic graves

smell crackers crumbling like statues

feel humans acting like humanity

taste just a hint of freedom

know how to make change

So when it acts like a

quacks like a

& the people who did it don’t give a

I will.

Teacher, reader, writer, eater.