June 28, 2015

Stevie Edwards

AFTER THE VIGIL FOR THE CHARLESTON CHURCH MASSACRE

Ithaca, NY – June 24, 2015

What if we built a God
out of justice. If we prayed
for justice to lead our daily actions
before scrambled eggs and coffee,
if we tithed to justice, dated
only people who believed in the right
justice, got our knees dirty
kneeling on asphalt
in front of police stations
and banks praying for justice
to banish the infidels. What if
we worshipped justice
as much as comfort,
didn’t move our protest lines
when the cab drivers honked.
What if after the vigil
nobody asked if people wanted
to do a die-in, if it wasn’t
perhaps too late. What if
we asked justice what she thinks
we should do to the town
tonight. What if justice
says we need more cowbell,
more pots and pans,
more yell with our lily white
liberal mouths. What if justice
says she doesn’t even need us—
checking our cellphones
on the crowd’s periphery
as a black woman talks about fear.

Poets Respond
June 28, 2015

[download audio]

__________

Stevie Edwards: “I had the odd happenstance of being offered a job in Charleston, South Carolina, this week, and wrote a few poems in response to the recent church massacre/act of terrorism there.” (website)

Rattle Logo

December 26, 2011

Stevie Edwards

WHAT I MEAN BY RUIN IS…

When there’s only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.

When you’ve shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.

When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can’t find any songs
for rain in its frets.

When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.

When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there’s nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.

When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper’s grave.

When you’re too ugly to pray,
but pray
                and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
                                good grief.

from Rattle #35, Summer 2011

Rattle Logo