under fireworks, the immigrant remembers his feet
the rocket’s climb into the mouth of summer & its slow bloom in the sky
i name it honestly: violence as spectacle
my apologies, i grew up in a wide belly
a harsh tear of sound & a culling of men
along my street & now i run my hands
down the blinds when a storm rolls in
no beauty to be found in a thunder’s rattle that ravishes
what has not welcomed a ravishing
once, a body was drained of what sweat it had to offer
& then pressed into the earth, an eternal kiss with the dirt
& this is where i appeared
a fresh pair of kicks & no instructions
there is a new country birthed at dawn
& in it running remains the same
a gambit against what swallowed
those who came before us
kudos to you, oh reaper
your ensemble has lined 26th ave with such gorgeous tones
i have checked the locks twice
& touch nothing even with so much to touch
i am sure there is comfort in these things that shed
& blossom until they are unrecognizable
but it was under a rainless night like this one
that i wished for a street without wounds
forgive me, i cannot be blamed for my feet
& what they might do under this recklessness
this sky slowly becoming itself
forgive me for what begins in the chest
this thump & fervor that bathes each rib
forgive me the small moments of reprieve
the wind’s rattle a softened whisper around
each one of my necks
even in stillness, the marrow of me
churns for what i know to exist
these fingers bend & flinch
beneath your dusk spilling with sound
& pull me toward a place
without teeth
Bernard Ferguson is a Bahamian immigrant living in Minnesota. He’s excited to convince you that Fall is not that great of a season. He has work featured/upcoming in Best New Poets 2017, Nashville Review, Winter Tangerine, Raleigh Review and Santa Ana River Review, among others. Please tell him about your favorite reggae songs.
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