in conversation with the heavens

I

consider the raven-winged black boys

they                      do                       not

wail         sigh

nor            weep     i

they do not ask for much but

still when they take to the skies

you shoot them down anyways?

                                 what of it?

                               fly, bird, fly.

                 fly in your white tee

this time your wings won’t melt

II

fly, bird, fly.

there will no babies in suits today

come fly east with me                   i

breathe with me                         i

                             breathe deeply  /  they say

                             oh! but if i only could

                             i would breathe the atlantic bone-dry

                             so that we could climb down

                             and get our remnants back

                             i would breathe in the whole goddamned ocean

                             so my exhale would be stronger than weaponized fire hoses

                             soothing enough to rinse the gas from teary eyes

III

how does it go?

“what’s a bird that wanders from its nest

to a person who flees from home?”

when you first voyaged from the nest

are you escaping or being cast out?

how many times did you crawl back?

when we go about creating our own heavens                                                                                  today  /  let us celebrate willful ignorance

do we dream of how we’ll get there?                                                                                                       everyday someone is going extinct buti

it's not our turn yet   /   so for now

all it costs is a blind eye