RIP Marcellus Khalifa Williams
Liam Walke
It’s been 24 hours since they murdered you.
I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, and
your glasses. Do they bury you with them on?
Who handled your body? Did they wash you? Dignity
in death they didn’t give you in life?
Do they cry as they touch your innocent skin
with their fingers?
My rage is so vast it cannot
be bent into letters
it spits and devours even the sun
(before it paints itself on the horizon).
It’s dark out, and raining
but you wouldn’t know
because you’re a martyr,
lynched like numberless brothers and
sisters by wealthy white men cowering behind
their lettered hell
