“I am sick of writing this poem
but bring the boy. his new name
his same old body. ordinary, black
dead thing. bring him & we will mourn
until we forget what we are mourning
& isn’t that what being black is about?”
More from Danez Smith
“lay me down on eye-white snow my slow brooding bed of robin wings my body slit & smearing…”
“I demand a war to bring the dead boy back no matter what his name is this time.”