The only useful thing I have to say about racism.

 

don't shoot

Jesus in the garden
prayed. Begged
for his life.
Because we cannot take back our cruelty, we make him king.
Hold him up.
Hold up the shreds of his garments.
We feel so stupid now.

We didn’t know he was God
until we saw him bleed.
And now we make each other bleed.
We say, you are not god.
That is not god lying dead in the street.
That was not god begging for his life.
How do you know?

How do you know he won’t
come back with black skin
wearing a hoodie or just,
you know, walking through
your neighborhood on a
beautiful day?
How do you know three days from now you won’t
remember his face?

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