we’re still learning, please bear with us
after hearing some
rousing speeches from
several eloquent organizers
off the cuff, exclusively
including a young woman
who was George Floyd’s cousin
shared a heartfelt
and energizing tribute
the small solemn and intimate
gathering of perhaps a hundred
concerned citizens who’d responded
to an online call for marchers
learned that the plan was to fold in
with a much larger action
scheduled to commence shortly
across the city
parking in that delineated area
being somewhat notoriously horrendous
I would probably have eschewed
participating in the second rally
had a gentleman of a similar mind
not chimed up his intentions to
march there on foot
welcoming any interested
to join him in the journey
a ragtag bunch
of delightful human beings
(if mostly Caucasian, humorously)
answered this call
myself included
and of the marches I have so far
had the privilege of attending
our little splinter group’s
sub voyage between one mass
and another proved to be
among the most pleasant
interesting ventures
have experienced to date
space will not permit
comprehensive detailing of
our eventful sojourn
so please enjoy two of
its most striking anecdotes
we managed among our
modest party of less than a dozen
to keep up a pretty impressive
stream of protest chants
along our way
(far better than the larger action
later achieved, I’ll say with a wisp of pride)
but between our fewer heads
boasting no professional rally leads
we recalled a somewhat limited
repertoire, which led to some
wracking of brains to recollect
past favorites and keep
our set-list varied and fresh
along the route through urban
Minneapolis neighborhoods
we were navigating
one I broke out
when we were really grasping
and scraping the bottom of the barrel
I had to disclaim probably I was
too white to be leading
but noted it had been a crowd favorite
at another big march I’d
recently attended
it went like this:
Bow down Babylon
Black people are the bomb
We ready, yeah yeah
We ready, yeah yeah
my colleagues tested it out
rolling awkwardly off our tongues
and it admittedly rung somewhat falsely
was far less impactful than had been
when a seasoned black female activist with
a megaphone on the back
of a truck was leading it
this sparked a respectful
but firm discussion of race
and appropriation
what could, should
contrarily shouldn’t be said
by whom
ideally
“But my cousin is black?”
interjected the jovial chap
(who gave me water
twice later when I was
quite dehydrated
God bless him)
leading our way
“That’s not how it works bro!”
...
“No, my cousin... This guy.”
he gestured to the kid
walking beside him
on a bicycle
“Hello,” his cousin said
shyly
“Ah, okay then.”
it takes a measure of courage
and gusto to try to
direct a chant
but it’s worth getting out
of your comfort zone
and attempting to start them up
wherever silence
is too long lingering
whenever you can summon
the courage
smaller gaggles
are amazing places to start
and a set-up where one invariably
has little choice in the matter
because the energy otherwise
just gets unpleasantly grim
becomes distinctly plodding, stolid as a Bataan
Death March without it
whereas with the stirring collaborative
performances things transform
and arouse great gratification and spurring
participants exhibit the feelings
of an ameliorative force on the move
some peace corps spreading good vibes
and advancing a cause
winning over one local heart and mind
at a time
from the panoply
of familiar, most effective slogans
the overwhelming favorite
at every action I’ve attended recently
is simple but versatile
yet requires some concentration
from those conducting it
as we were working
our way through
the playbook
I took a crack
at it early on
the concept is simple
a traditional call and repeat
you might hear in a black church
or during martial marches
associated with basic military training
but the way this one proceeds,
one person shouts it out
then after a beat
the multitude repeats
amplifying in unison
at a more ringing volume
so I made a stab
from memory
as best I could:
Black lives they matter here.
BLACK LIVES THEY MATTER HERE.
Hmong lives they matter here.
HMONG LIVES THEY MATTER HERE.
Somali lives they matter here.
SOMALI LIVES THEY MATTER HERE.
Your life it matters here.
YOUR LIFE IT MATTERS HERE.
Our life it matters here.
OUR LIFE IT MATTERS HERE.
Her life it matters here.
HER LIFE IT MATTERS HERE.
His life it matters here.
HIS LIFE IT MATTERS HERE.
and so on
concluding
trailing off as we tend to
at the ends
I felt reasonably confident
thought it had been comprehensive enough
hadn’t butchered too egregiously
then a new friend I’d just made
chimed in with all
the wisdom and precocity
of a high school senior
and nonjudgmentally added a few verses
I’d conspicuously omitted
unintentionally
Women’s lives they matter here!
WOMEN’S LIVES THEY MATTER HERE.
Trans lives they matter here.
TRANS LIVES THEY MATTER HERE!
Disabled lives they matter here!
DISABLED LIVES THEY MATTER HERE!
Native lives they matter here.
NATIVE LIVES THEY MATTER HERE!
Latino lives they matter here.
LATINO LIVES THEY MATTER HERE!
etc.
I grinned, smacking myself
in embarrassment
Women’s lives!
how could I possibly
have missed those
or any one of the rest
but I had
I did not the next time
nor did anyone again
in our many improvisations
and experimentations
with that catchy anthem
I hope I never
will again
anywhere
or anytime
left behind on the fourth of July
seemed appropriate enough
my own fault ostensibly
you see we well-intentioned foot soldiers
for racial justice were directed
to incorporate our marching
in with a ‘roll for justice’
employing wheeled participants specifically
on bicycles, skateboards, roller blades
and in jolly vehicles
which was great fun
and quite a sight
most assuredly
however, I would never recommend
attempting to keep pace with
such a brigade
on foot
the sweepers and parade guards
securing the streets at the vanguard
and peripheries
blocking off safe passage
at stop lights
grew progressively irate at the
walkers throughout as we found ourselves
further and further behind
the frontrunners
we slowed and inconvenienced
their keeping up with the greater
bulk moving at a significantly
faster clip
commands got more terse
I was directed from the road
to the sidewalk
eventually our
foot patrol holding the rear
were entirely abandoned
after being left further
and further behind for some
little while leading up to it
fair enough
in a utilitarian sense
fool on us
for attempting such
an impossible feat
still, it did give me pause
made me consider the difficulty
differently abled
and those with significant
disparities of resources
being expected to match pace
with those possessing more conducive
modes of transportation
along the continuum
this put everything into glaring
focus and crystal clarity
provided a fine microcosm
and figurative example
I thought, walking alone
after losing them completely
over many miles of lonely road
back to where I’d parked
eternally grateful to find
a slushy I was able to purchase along the way
to stave off desiccation
bordering upon sun stroke
over what in total
was about six hours of marching
without sunscreen
on a ninety-degree day
but whenever I thought I had it bad
always reminded myself
of that heroic guy
stubbornly keeping pace
across half the city
carrying a ten foot tall
five-foot wide
wooden fist effigy
seen him at nearly
every protest
something positively Christ-like
about that dude
the way he does that
for real
Warm Bodies
a haiku
not good for much but
I’m here and breathing needed
can be of some use