For Colored Boys Who Considered Gangbanging When Being Black Was Too Much
By Britteney Black Rose Kapri
“I saw three little black boys lying in a graveyard, I couldn’t tell if they were playing or practicing” – Baba Lukata
like all Black Chicago women i have been preparing my womb to carry a stillborn. a baby to grow, but not man. i will bury him before i have finished paying off his first hospital bills. i have picked my daughter’s name. but can’t bring myself to ready the words i’ll need for his tombstone. i am trying to line my womb with Kevlar. like all Black Chicago women I have been preparing my womb to carry a Bigger Thomas,
my son is a name no one knows in homicide tracker. or a blurb in the tribune. a clutched purse, a whistle in the wrong direction. a Black boy drowning. There is no ticking, just the cock of the hammer banging against my biological clockwaiting for me to offer a new sacrifice to these streets.
