Don't Call Us Dead: Poems

by Danez Smith

for Pookie my day one & best love

Oh my God, oh my God If I die, I’m a legend Drake

he who wore death discourages any plague Sonia Sanchez

summer, somewhere somewhere, a sun. below, boys brown as rye play the dozens & ball, jump in the air & stay there. boys become new moons, gum-dark on all sides, beg bruise -blue water to fly, at least tide, at least spit back a father or two. i won’t get started. history is what it is. it knows what it did. bad dog. bad blood. bad day to be a boy color of a July well spent. but here, not earth not heaven, we can’t recall our white shirts turned ruby gowns. here, there’s no language for officer or law, no color to call white. if snow fell, it’d fall black. please, don’t call us dead, call us alive someplace better. we say our own names when we pray. we go out for sweets & come back.