D'mani Thomas: California Poets Part 7, Three Poems

D'mani Thomas

July 1st, 2024

California Poets: Part VII

D'mani Thomas

Three Poems

Summer in this Little Dark Age

Policemen swear to god[1] & a holographic rare image of Jesus flickers between a bearded carpenter &a blonde woman, floating in a Klan’s fore-gown, building a railroad, overpass, or signaling any other redline slur… To the poor, she whispers, you can be here but only in the way Black history month is celebrated in prisons. A few blocks away, compromise looks like not reporting the homeless encampment after the homeless encampment was forcefully relocated to the other side of town, away from the Starbucks, for a crumb of property value & capital. The fine print reads: coloreds can have one. Just one. & we chicken head over pseudo reparations as summer evenings & overdue victories slip away.

As summer’s momentum slips away, those of us raised on Disney magic & happy endings lose our future to factory smoke. We become narcissus only saved by oil spill making watercolor of rivers. This again, a scientific observation in segregation. The flowers work double time, blooming a season early to wake like good sleep, arms stretched out & eagle — upward. This study of herbology becomes dire. In metaphor, I see earth try to reach outside of itself, begging for help.

Question for those that circle jerk to tax cuts:  if “in god we trust '' makes a dollar deity, why are all the bibles hallowed out? Where do you keep your guns? _______________________________________________________

[1] Lyric from “Little Dark Age” by MGMT

Ekphrastic after "Sugar Shack" by Ernie Barnes or & ... I hope you like me 'cause I'm nervous

I’m lbs of bastard son & twig thin here & all the women that raised me are once removed from the south & know how to move slick & dark like all things southern ‘spose to & I got knees that can wait in line at the dmv for you & legs that can do every dance twice & anyway, i’m dressed to the 9’s & everyone stares at me & i feel lonely, but then i see you & I’m here in eyeliner & silk & “why you here on uh work night?” & mind ya business & why don’t you let me burn what’s been eating me up all week cause i got no time to calcify & my legs ain’t gone be this needy forever & let tomorrow be tomorrow & let everything not here stay home & call me beautiful tonight & get nothing from it, but uh shimmy & uh lindy hop & twist

that’ll pop the top off a dill pickle jar in one shot & do you like this dress!? I bought it for me, but tonight I tell everyone I love I bought it for you & maybe I have a crush on you that’s work week long & maybe we should hang out in a place that’s whites only & let that be a metaphor

for something pretty & maybe we should hold hands like it means something & it doesn’t

It’s just my legs are jello and i need someone I trust for the walk home

D'mani Thomas is a writer from Oakland, California (Ohlone territory). He’s interested in the tiny moments that capture attention spans. He has received invitations to fellowship from The Watering Hole, Foglifter, Afro Urban Society, and UC Berkeley’s Art & Research Center via The Engaging the Senses Foundation. Their work can be found in : The Auburn Avenue, The Shade Journal, The Ana, and elsewhere. His chapbook, “Grown-up Elementary”,  is now available via Black Lawrence Press. Outside of poetry, catch them studying horror movies, dancing, and eating too many fries.

(previously published in “the Shade Journal”)

Author Bio:

D'mani Thomas is a writer from Oakland, California (Ohlone territory). He’s interested in the tiny moments that capture attention spans. He has received invitations to fellowship from The Watering Hole, Foglifter, Afro Urban Society, and UC Berkeley’s Art & Research Center via The Engaging the Senses Foundation. Their work can be found in : The Auburn Avenue, The Shade Journal, The Ana, and elsewhere. His chapbook, “Grown-up Elementary”, is now available via Black Lawrence Press. Outside of poetry, catch them studying horror movies, dancing, and eating too many fries.