Pendambaye Zenisha Smith

3 poems

Black Blues

of the hold. of the bones. of the born.
of boarded storefronts. of sharded glass
of headless manicans. Of rolling heads .
of the axiomatic. of the aftermath.
of the structure. of the teargas. of the milk magnesia.
of the eye shield. of the mask. of the gas tanks.
of the white. of his AK 47. of his proximity.
of the handcuff. of the othering. of the peace signs.
of the new normal. of cotton mouth. of frankincense
of  hunger. of  thirst. of  march. of funky feet. 

of gesturing towards. of grief smoke. of gestured rocks. of grief wait. of naked racks.
of frantic’s mother. of bull horn. of siren’s milk.
of curfew. of grief god . of flames. of possibility 

 

   

// 

of curfew. of grief god . of flames. of possibility
of the lung. of the unconsciounsess.
of the ocean. of the f(l)ight. of the closed.  

of the hypoxic. of the convulsion.
of the sinking. of the airway. of the haunt
of the float. of the remains. of the
phosphorous. of the oxygen. of the carbon.
of the calcium. of the blood. of the shark
of the now. of the here. of the am.
of the mississipi. of the river. of the  elegy. of the water. of the limbs. of the  extension. of the me. of the ask. of the  calling. of the pulling. of the me. of the in. of the way. of the usher. of the backing.  of the saving. of the eulogy. of the still. of the not. of the safe. of the no of the hold. of the bones. of the born 

 

// 

 

 

 

of          hold   not           safe   eulogy     still
pulling     me     ask           the  elegy       water
of              the          now          here
of              blood   of               the
sinking       remains  closed         lung
of                the ocean         f(l)ight
flame           possibility  mother        siren’s
rock             naked  grief            gesturing
hunger          thirst      cotton       mouth
of              othering    of             the
shield         tank   structure     teargas
of            the   manican     rolling
storefront   sharded  

 

// 

 

sharded storefront&therollingmanican&theofteargasstructure&tankshieldedtheofotherinof&
mouthcottonthirsthunger&gesturinggriefnakedrockssiren’smotherpossibleflame&f(l)ightoceanth
eofclosedlung&remainssinkingtheofblood&herenoftheofelegywater&theaskmepullingstilleulogy
safe&notholdof

 

The then

First gossip then lobby floorboards stripped then elevator works
then linoleum floors then security guards then construct tion dusk
then play ground removed, now then, street lights
come on, my daddy voice, booms then flee home
then new kind neighbor then my breasts perk 
then new spiked benches then glass doors then i lock
lips with zaire then i am caught in her arms long
ing then new gravel then i perm my hair then every
body wants me including zaire’s boyfriend
then i sit with him in the closet then it is good to
feel wanted 

then she finds us then she swings
then I grab her shirt then it rips then bloodfist lips then
my mother sells our mattress then the then
then we move then blood rushes down my blkthighs for the very first time.

 

A Small Litany of Disasters

my father is a trump supporter; i lose sleep over a man; my first crush asks me on date; it’s a bet;
i yearn for the confidence of a man with wack dick; the first woman i sleep with; throws up in
my bathroom; she shits in my tub; they say the best way to cum is to let go; i let go & pee comes
out; white people analyse a poem about police brutality; this trigger is visceral i say; the class
takes notes; i can feel every disaster biting in to me; the class takes notes; i have memories of
lives i have never lived
; the class takes notes; the abortion; the class takes notes; my mother is
lonely; it is generational; Playhouse night club in LA; Beverly Hills; the white boy sophomore
year says he loves me; he overhears a man call me jungle pussy; no one loses sleep; a box braid
falls out; it takes my edges with it; college; what happens after i eat ice cream; i’m drowning
without a body of water to name; the class takes notes; if i ain’t kill me, what makes you think i’d
let you?
the class takes notes; my father believes trump knows what’s best for america; my
mother believes God knows whats best for america; my god is fragmentary; part-object; never
arrives on time; but in due time; my god said let there be light & then failed; my god saw a man
touch me when I said no; my god is fragmentary; my god is blue; my god; my god; i run out of
anti-depressants; the medication makes me numb; it leaves my pussy dry; i am a bad bitch w/ dry
pussy; i bump heads ; when i kiss the woman i love; she is miles away; my mother makes me
promise her i do not like women; i lie over and over again

 

Pendambaye Zenisha Smith is an emerging poet and scientist/researcher who is invested in how Black women sustain themselves amidst antiblackness. She holds a degree in neurobiology from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. As a Ronald E. McNair Scholar, she has done research on Black Infant Mortality and the effect of childhood maltreatment on neural regions. As a poet, she is the co-founder of the UpRise Poetry Collective, the assistant poetry editor for New Delta Review, guest editor for the 2020 Tennesee Literary Writing Festival, and a First Wave scholar. Her work has been published by Rattle Magazine, Wusgood.black, and Decomp magazine. Currently, she is a First-Year MFA candidate for poetry at Louisiana State University.