to Angela Davis
a free verse poem for Crucible: the stone womb of elderhood
“What would it mean, instead of being an elderly woman, to be an elder woman?” —Sharon Blackie, Hagitude
when you say ants create
architecture with soil
and don’t destroy the earth
and you follow that up
with transformation in capitalism
has always meant destruction
and you walk out
from behind the podium
with a gold silk scarf
around your neck
take that twenty something
white boy question
with its concealed blade
meant to cut you down to size
right into your belly
and you hold it there
and you don’t bleed
and you face him
with the fierce softness
of seventy-nine years
and you say I still consider myself
a communist with a small “c”
and you ask why
does the capacity to learn
have to be purchased
and you ask who
wouldn’t want to have
housing at a cost one can afford
and you say abolitionists
are not simply saying
get rid of the institutions
abolish the police
abolish the prisons
but the real question is how
do we reorganize
so we no longer need
racist and repressive institutions
what would it mean
to not assume every creation
has to be a commodity
that produces profit
what would it mean to provide
people with what they need
