Floating and Rising in Federal Setting Level Four
March 22, 2021Poetry by Mary Jo Robinson-Jamison
Sound like flesh warms the back of our necks, fills that space between vertebrae and skull.
Sound like flesh warms the back of our necks, fills that space between vertebrae and skull.
All day I bundled my strength in my lantern room and shone.
I’m animated by the fierce intention to figure out what matters.
I know a lot about empty skylines and the land that has become a hollowed belly.
Privilege and racism are real, and not just in South Africa.
It knows the value in the discarded, knows the drama of the search.
They’re taking things away from you, those hidden elites, those threatening other-colored others.