Black Man Down
Entered parking lot, aware
that the white BMW was not
what was usually there unless
those drug dealers who shot
the young man in the low
whitewashed building with
icy cold of death were
saying adios
too to he who was one of
them and all at once not
and my wife the tiny whiter
than white woman holding
tight to my hand strolling
into the coolness, not so chill
as that elegantly appointed
funeral home palace where her
uncle was so celebrated weeks
ago in word and photo my
usual confusion about cele
bra tion when one’s laid on
satin, hands crossed, makeup
applied clammy dead
inside hearing the wet faced,
black mo
thers who do that wailing weep
so well practice I guess up
front black man laid out against
off-white satin hands crossed
which had maybe killed and
hurt others
looked at him with my white
man’s eyes we surrounded by
black folks then walking back
sitting stiffly in the last row of
wooden chairs slats cut into my
back as a troop of large, young
men came in swagering roll
ing stroll
one
hand behind so you didn’t know
what is in it they approached
the casket
which was shining and I wond
ered if it was only for rental
five or six of them can’t remem
ber how many, looking down into
the coffin at the corpse so intent
ly one at a time
then throwing casting gang
signs to the fallen one fing
ers forming them no facial
ex pres sion
each standing for a moment
casting signs in the sudden
dead quiet of the small room
now turning one at a time
their so dark eyes locking
momentarily on tan skinned
me and my very pale wife
with heated rage or was
my para noia ex plod ing
and then they were all gone
and the wailing resumed and
we invisible inter lopers exit ed
with the young black man
still on that off-white satin
laying there quietly
casting no gang signs
Endless Possibilities
Opened my eyes and saw tufts of pink clouds
against the Easter egg blue sky and felt that
this day has absolutely endless possibilities
Walked the apartment, was then blessed
by bird eye watching me so very intently
as I saw slow parade of fluffy pink clouds
Then dog watching me as if I were some
wondrous thing, perhaps a generous god
I felt this day has endless possibilities
Then walking in the park, with dog, trees
filigreed leaves alive suddenly, hiding
from eyes the tufts of now white clouds
Then they were on limb, chirping and
close, two tiny juvenile woodpeckers
knew this day has endless possibilities
And bent to see another dog with eyes
on me and got a wet kiss on the nose, so
glad I saw those tufts of so pink clouds
since today has such endless possibilities
Entered parking lot, aware
that the white BMW was not
what was usually there unless
those drug dealers who shot
the young man in the low
whitewashed building with
icy cold of death were
saying adios
too to he who was one of
them and all at once not
and my wife the tiny whiter
than white woman holding
tight to my hand strolling
into the coolness, not so chill
as that elegantly appointed
funeral home palace where her
uncle was so celebrated weeks
ago in word and photo my
usual confusion about cele
bra tion when one’s laid on
satin, hands crossed, makeup
applied clammy dead
inside hearing the wet faced,
black mo
thers who do that wailing weep
so well practice I guess up
front black man laid out against
off-white satin hands crossed
which had maybe killed and
hurt others
looked at him with my white
man’s eyes we surrounded by
black folks then walking back
sitting stiffly in the last row of
wooden chairs slats cut into my
back as a troop of large, young
men came in swagering roll
ing stroll
one
hand behind so you didn’t know
what is in it they approached
the casket
which was shining and I wond
ered if it was only for rental
five or six of them can’t remem
ber how many, looking down into
the coffin at the corpse so intent
ly one at a time
then throwing casting gang
signs to the fallen one fing
ers forming them no facial
ex pres sion
each standing for a moment
casting signs in the sudden
dead quiet of the small room
now turning one at a time
their so dark eyes locking
momentarily on tan skinned
me and my very pale wife
with heated rage or was
my para noia ex plod ing
and then they were all gone
and the wailing resumed and
we invisible inter lopers exit ed
with the young black man
still on that off-white satin
laying there quietly
casting no gang signs
Endless Possibilities
Opened my eyes and saw tufts of pink clouds
against the Easter egg blue sky and felt that
this day has absolutely endless possibilities
Walked the apartment, was then blessed
by bird eye watching me so very intently
as I saw slow parade of fluffy pink clouds
Then dog watching me as if I were some
wondrous thing, perhaps a generous god
I felt this day has endless possibilities
Then walking in the park, with dog, trees
filigreed leaves alive suddenly, hiding
from eyes the tufts of now white clouds
Then they were on limb, chirping and
close, two tiny juvenile woodpeckers
knew this day has endless possibilities
And bent to see another dog with eyes
on me and got a wet kiss on the nose, so
glad I saw those tufts of so pink clouds
since today has such endless possibilities
Charles Larsen
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See more of Charles Larsen's work in the
Fall-Winter 2007 issue
Fall-Winter 2007 issue