3 poems

Collision

-after Breonna Taylor

The scariest part about crashing
is having no control.

You are powerless
against the forces
which hurl and drag you,
unable to overcome the
maddening spiral.

You may know it is coming
or you may wake to the sounds

of doors splintering open,
the intricate shuck and click
of guns being drawn
your lover at the helm
doing what any decent man
might do

and you
ripped from a dream by bullets.

Crowd Sourced Savior

-after George Floyd

I felt like this once before
at a funeral
one of my best friends
a heroin overdose
the putrid smell
of flesh and flowers
a mother’s red-rimmed eyes
the guilty faces encircling the dead
so many of us knew about
the junk.

I feel that way, as I watch-

-another Black man die on television
a knee on his neck, people all around.

Explicit

Brown skin means moving
around in this world
is like jogging on the ocean floor.

On the other hand,
some things are simpler.
Those things which are simpler
are ancient and miraculous
moments of colloquialisms
and common language
which make life
an endless, cool drink,
a sandy shore.

I can operate in subtlety.
I don’t have to go around
defining my desire
saying who and what I want or why.

I can point to you and say, “that’s all me, that’s mine”
or just take out some braids, let kinky hair fall, while you watch.

Mel Sherrer (She/Her) is a writer, editor, and educator. She received her B.F.A. from Hollins University in Roanoke, Virginia, and her M.F.A. from Converse College in Spartanburg, South Carolina. She is the Social Media Editor for South 85 Literary Journal, and she teaches private lessons. Mel also conducts Creative Writing and Performance Literature workshops. She currently resides in Las Vegas, Nevada.