Anthem for a Memorium

A previous version of this poem was published in The Yearn, 1996?

You and I -
We fight for positions,
my body of ocean
upon your land mass.

We break open prayers,
neither oshun nor bathala
not even allah, or yahweh
can interpret -

so set they are in their ways
of desire and control.

But what do we struggle for?
In the middle of the night,
heavy, like a laborer's t-shirt
after a day of hard work, or

when the moon is full
above this city
forgotten by all, 'cept by those
who must remain,

and struggle to remember
that you and I
are not a forgotten people.
We all may not belong here,

but we do fit in.

And why do we keep on fighting?
Each of us knowing
that we are at risk for what we do,
'cause sometimes

walking without a gun
can be just as dangerous
as fucking without a condom, and
sometimes those cravings that tell us to go numb

sting a lot more than needles
(can't clean our rigs enough
to stop the virus of poverty and hatred and violence
from inside and outside our borders)

So where must the fight lead to?
when sometimes the only truth is
even brown folk with thick skin
bleed red.