PITTSBURGH by Alixa


2003 and Pittsburgh is bleeding
a twelve year olds’ dream
bullets pierce white bone
shatter like the feathers of birds
who don’t catch their reflection in time
to fly south
or fly north

unconscious in the fall
wings are useless
when gravity and circumstance
has you running
with your hands in your pockets

see, he thought it’d funny
to take his parents car
for a drive round the block
tick, tock his way
through four year
yet to come with his license

he thought I’d be fine
to grab hold of that engine
backed by winged chariots
and drive by

green lights meant go

at twelve
he thought it’d be a great joke to step into
easy to undress from
when the weight of machinery
not yet suited for him
was questioned by his mother

but the murder of four black men
by police officers hummed under the concrete
and one easy target
had just caught a red light

and the time it takes to distinguish
between a child
a bullet
a profile
and a trigger
was not enough

time to stand up
I say
but he couldn’t
tripping over his own legs
when the push of lead cut into his back
like a knife through mango
summer sunset red
was the color that he made when he fell

something like his cavity chest bursting holes
that left wounded birds trying
in his ribcage attempting to get out flying
before they got caught
trapped between the concrete
and the weight of his body
flat lines sound a lot like first breaths dipped in candle flame
the tips of needles into thread
or something less romantic
like the realization your twelve year old has been shot dead

bullets engraved into flesh tones
because the 5-0 said so
thought so
but wont apologize
for the steel implants on a life
that only caught twenty moons
saw twelve winters
cold fingertips
snowball fighting the neighborhood boys
splintered lips
when he fell on the concrete

with no gun
just scared
without a belt
and big pants
he got caught
running
with his hands in his pockets

today I woke
I woke up
to the weight of the liberty bell on my chest
and the birds that nestled there
would not stop flapping
flapping
flapping their wings
kept crashing
against the windows of my heart beat
every time the chambers closed
they fell down
dancing gravity

somebody must have saw something!!!!
but everybody is keeping quiet like a secret lover
dial tones lead to dead ends
when the DA is questioned
rings back silent answers
of no arrest for the police officer in question

question:
why is it that every section in downtown Pittsburgh
is not covered by protester and letter heads?
tell me
how to lift the weight of this liberty bell off me
calm the birds that now keep me up with their screaming

it's been a few years
and all I got is this story
with no answers

I’m sick of propaganda lines
tripping my footsteps
digging a hole for my movements
my people falling into them

how they got us divided and stupid

a passive public
dreaming of white
on bread and picket fences
driving hope into our wallets
with the conviction that TV has us figured
and we are all merely lacking

I which I could say
these were just words for a poem
and we were playing make pretend

but in 2003
Pittsburgh alone had 5 unarmed men
shot dead
in the span of two red months
by blue soldiers
with stars laced up in their boots

conviction has a way

can you believe nobody is saying shit?!
but I guess the media has a way of presenting shit
so we forget

I say, hold your lucky pennies tight
light a candle for the passing of breath
that clings long enough
to remind us that here
life had a name
and a place

a sister that now holds get well soon cards
even though she’s not sick
and the thick of her brother’s embrace
is but a ghost that mirrors her image
outlines her dreams
where she carries jars of songs
that never break

and his mother
left to tend to an empty plate
every time she forgets he’s not coming
humming empty lullabies that go to heaven
cradling her womb where out of clay she molded him
pushed air into his lungs

a cry with his first breath
has her running in circles
trickled tears
that 7 years could not erase

her face like rivers
cut into mountains
moving
mourning
the passing of days