Nineteen Juneteenths ago I wrote an angry, mournful poem about riots and the communication of rage.
Some of it feels at a distance, but much of it feels—like the piece of it here—both ripped from today's headlines and badly in need of footnotes
Footnotes on just whose pain or death was a part of this story, was a metaphor, was a hashtag (avant la lettre) for spreading indignant rage, as I tried to do then.