17 Apr Té’s Corner: pray for

(Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash)

By Donté Clark

pray for the blocks, the streets, the corners

that drip at the head from the life of men

that pour down the sideburns like hot oil on a coarse scalp

for the neighborhoods that sit between the legs

of a tired city

that’s harsh spoken ’nd brash with heavy hands

combing swiftly

through thick waves of asiatic roots

forcibly brushing out indigenous kinks ’nd cookabugs

napping ’nd curled in the back of the mind familiar

like mom’s ’nd pop’s kitchen. pray

for concrete for the cracks that blister dry

like chapped lips ’nd teeth sharp as bullets that chew down skin gnawing its beauty of black to raw pink.

pray for friday nights that gather the shots

’nd has not been proven to be bulletproof

when the night rises, our sons fall. pray for moons

who slither slim to full again ministering at twilight

praised holy by congregation of mourners

howling from the hollow streets ’nd front porch pews

in the wee hours of service between the cycling

of blunt offerings ’nd hennessey tithes

who can count the sinners hands that are a loud claps

of amens ’nd shouts stomps when loved on? feel their spirit talking in tongues from touch of racist bullets.