By Kai Davis

I don’t got no president 

I was kidnapped then disowned 

 

Smoking dope wrapped in tobacco

that my folks had prolly grown 

 

Weary bodied weary boned 

in little boxes made of stone 

 

Separated from my neighbor 

by the walls that we don’t own 

 

So, yes I feel alone 

But I won’t let no one take me 

 

Grateful for what didn’t break me

I thank therapy and reiki 

 

I thank Tennessee and Haiti 

Humbly cradle Jake’s new baby 

 

with the smile my family gave me

Prostrate for the faith that saved me 

 

It does not cease to amaze me

that the State has not yet claimed me 

 

Black as ink, they can’t erase me

You want me, then make me 

 

No I won’t—say no I won’t 

go and forsake the pain that made me 

 

I will stitch a million wounds 

Sing to a million moons 

 

Pour libation for the martyrs that I

won’t be seeing soon 

 

Sit in water till I prune 

May I cry till I lagoon 

 

May I stride into the night 

to hear the cooing of the loon

 

Bless the sisters of my brood

Bless the brothers I’ve accrued 

 

Bless the table. Bless the food and

all who stand around this room 

 

I know love must be the tool to

undo all what makes us cruel 

 

Said I won’t be no country’s fool

Fuck your flag and fuck that song 

 

Fuck the White House and its

terror and its early light of dawn 

 

I really must be movin’ on.

Love Now Magazine

This poem originally appeared in the 2024 Winter issue of Love Now Magazine with the theme of Healing. You can read more from the issue here.