For the 95 Bodies Found on the Imperial Sugar Plantation
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In February 2018, construction workers discovered the remains of 95 black workers on the site of the former Imperial Sugar Plantation. The plantation was infamous for its brutality during both the slavery era and the convict leasing era. Some scholars claim that Lead Belly’s version of “Midnight Special” was inspired by his time as a prisoner at the plantation.
Even the machines missed the bodieson their first scans because machines can
play chess, play the piano, playthe market, but they can’t learn to lie
like a magician, never learned how to make a bodyvanish and make the crowd applaud the departure
of that body, name, footstepsthat told the family that body was walking
through the front door in time for dinner.The plantation will turn
into a school. Torture becomes teachablemoments. Lead Belly becomes CCR.
But every good trick desiresan illusion, so our wide eyes will swear [End Page 69]
they see the ghost of the accountant’s assistant smilingwhile he watches a little black girl sweat
over a calculus midterm. We will swearthere’s a ghost in the locker room
watching little boys of all colors—chalk, cream, and coffee-black—trade dick
jokes before practice. We will swearthere’s a chorus of ghost hands clapping
at graduation while the valedictoriangives a speech about the work
ethic she learns from her fatherby watching him rise up from the dead
of night and go work two jobs.We’ll swear we saw those ghosts smile
one last time before they bathe themselvesin the Lethe-soaked light of oblivion.
But those ghosts knowevery trick the country has ever played. Those ghosts aren’t
in any hurry to leave. They need to know why we left themon this plantation when we could’ve imagined them
anywhere else. They need to know why we keep talkingabout work when there are 95 funeral songs that need
singing. They need to know what else are wewilling to share after sharing an article
or a solidarity emoji. And they needto know if Viola Davis or Octavia Spencer [End Page 70]
will play the one black woman forgottenin these 95 boxes of black bones
and they need to know how we believe in 95 ghostsbeing only 95 ghosts and they need to know
how we ever learned to walkin a country where every sidewalk is a lost graveyard.
They need to know how we ever managedto turn something so rotten into something so sweet. [End Page 71]
Footnotes
1. Originally published in The Summerset Review (Fall 2019) and republished in A Man Ain’t Nothin’ (Pork Belly Press, 2020). Reprinted by permission.
