NYU Black Renaissance Noire Winter 2014 - Page 114

By EKERE TALLIE Paper Bag Poems “These poets use being black to write about larger subjects.” Charles Rowell Fulla field hollers, rifles, unrefined liquor, my poems can’t pass paper bag tests. Blueprints for surviving architecture of grief. There is nothing larger than the night sky of our blood. Broken bones of teardrops, three generations of raw throated women. 112 Fists rising from these pages. Sovereign (for Gil Scott Heron) 1. Fraying silk of voice a flag flying over broken hoping territory of us. 2. Why couldn’t he greet tomorrow? Rest in the home of our eyes? 3. What pain settled, occupied the land of his vast heart? Who colonized his joy? How did he battle to keep his tongue?