Nomenclature

Nomenclature

Lassiter Waith

I have nobody, no body It belongs to the black mass I am brown man in black face I am a wounded brain, the skull of something White hands pour tar down my collective, symbolic throat.

We all the children pray to wake up before school To find that it’s a snow day To find that all our many shades of brown Have become balloons and flown away White at last, white at last!

I cannot be the everyman Because every man but me is white But I can be the noman Human-Now-Beast Six million hands in chains Six million bullets to the brain.

I become the everycertainman whenever an everyman says so Two white fingers snap Quick as a whip “This is what they’re all like” and my body is a placeholder, it no longer belongs to me It is the universal body now “This is what they’re all like” My Our-Face on an eternal target Teeth shattered by a planted smoking gun

“We’re all red inside” Have you ever seen your red? I see mine everyday

It paints my streets and haunts my shared nightmare Black man died of culture shock Culture attended to funeral, said: “What a tragedy, he ruined my life. He wasted a bullet of mine, pay it back.” The funeral started 1619 I want to go home already.

We all the children see ourselves in death tolls and funerals “There I am! There I am!” 60 million bodies nameless

Or are the names ever-changing, ever our own?