a prayer band
- a prayer band
every thing
you ever paid for you ever worked on you ever received
every thing
you ever gave away you ever held on to you ever forgot about
every single thing is one of every single thing and all things are gone
every thing i can think to do to say i feel is buoyant
every thing is below water every thing is eroding every thing is hungry
there is no thing to eat there is water every where and there is no thing clean to drink
the children aren’t talking
the nurses have stopped believing anyone is coming for us
the parish fire chief will never again tell anyone that help is coming [End Page 1]
now is the time of rags now is the indigo of loss now is the need for cavalry
new orleans i fell in love with your fine ass poor boys sweating frying catfish blackened life thick women glossy seasoning bourbon indians beads grit history of races and losers who still won
new orleans i dreamt of living lush within your shuttered eyes a closet of yellow dresses a breeze on my neck writing poems for do right men and a daughter of refugees
i have known of displacement and the tides pulling every thing that could not be carried within and some of that too
a jamaican man sings those who can afford to run will run what about those who can’t they will have to stay
end of the month tropical depression turned storm
someone whose beloved has drowned knows what water can do what water will do to once animated things
a new orleans man pleads we have to steal from each other to eat another gun in hand says we will protect what we have what belongs to us
i have known of fleeing desperate with children on hips in arms on backs of house keys strung on necks of water weighed shoes disintegrated official papers leases certificates births deaths taxes [End Page 2]
i have known of high ways which lead nowhere of aches in teeth in heads in hands tied
i have known of women raped by strangers by neighbors of a hunger in human
i have known of promises to return to where you come from but first any bus going any where
tonight the tigris and the mississippi moan for each other as sisters full of unnatural things flooded with predators and prayers
all language bankrupt
how long before hope begins to eat itself? how many flags must be waved? when does a man let go of his wife’s hand in order to hold his child?
who says this is not the america they know?
what america do they know?
were the poor people so poor they could not be seen?
were the black people so many they could not be counted?
this is not a charge this is a conviction
if death levels us all then life plays favorites
and life it seems is constructed of budgets contracts deployments of wards and automobiles of superstition and tourism and gasoline but mostly insurance
and insurance it seems is only bought and only with what cannot be carried within and some of that too [End Page 3]
a city of slave bricked streets a city of chapel rooms a city of haints
a crescent city
where will the jazz funeral be held?
when will the children talk?
tonight it is the dead and dying who are left and those who would rather not promise themselves they will return
they will be there after everything is gone and when the saints come marching like spring to save us all [End Page 4]
Suheir Hammad, a Palestinian-American poet and political activist, is a recipient of the Audre Lourde Writing Award from Hunter College, the Morris Center for Healing Poetry Award, and a New York Mills Artist Residency in Minnesota. She has published a book of poems, Born Palestinian, Born Black, and a memoir, Drops Of This Story, and is prominently featured in Listen Up! An Anthology Of Spoken Work Poetry. A frequent reader at New York reading...
