Content Warning: Brief mentions of suicide
For Matthew
I have died too many deaths that were not mine.
Audre Lorde
I have found my body collapsible,
choking on your death
like a small child who seeks to understand
by stuffing pennies and marbles into mouth.
It reverberates across the continent,
fallout from an old, old story.
How when they found you,
at first they thought you were a scarecrow
crucified on a Wyoming fence.
In Seattle, 1000 lit candles.
(I wanted the city to burn.)
In San Francisco, a rainbow flag hung half-mast.
(I wanted earth to split open.)
In DC, the president finally spoke.
(I wanted screams to shatter glass.)
In Laramie, they wore armbands.
(I wanted a revolution.)
Thousands upon thousands say NeverAgain, NeverAgain.
(I don’t want to remember you as symbol.)
We have no more time for symbols.
We have no more time for vigils.
We have no more time
because when I started writing
this poem for you, Matthew,
you were still alive.
In memoriam: Matthew Shepard
Dear Reader,
I’m angry again.
I am angry with those who aren’t angry.
Nothing pisses me off more than someone with no rage in their heart.
They must be blind.
I don’t give a rat’s ass about candles or rainbow flags or speeches given by limp dicked politicians or armbands or chants.
They’re killing us.
The Trevor Project. (2022). 2022 National Survey on LGBTQ Youth Mental Health. https://www.thetrevorproject.org/survey-2022/assets/static/trevor01_2022survey_final.pdf
They’re fucking driving our kids to despair and suicide.
I don’t give a rat’s ass about candles or rainbow flags or speeches given by limp dicked politicians or armbands or chants.
This shit needs to burn.
I want to watch those who’ve made me suffer to be brutalized, to be made to pay for their sins, to make sure that they never hurt anyone again.
You know what I don’t want to do?
HAVE A FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH THEM!
I DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS ABOUT CANDLES OR RAINBOW FLAGS OR SPEECHES GIVEN BY LIMP DICKED POLITICIANS OR ARMBANDS OR CHANTS!!!
WATCHING MY FRIENDS TRY TO USE THE MASTER’S TOOLS TO DISMANTLE THE MASTER’S HOUSE FUCKING INFURIATES ME!
AMERICA DOESN’T HAVE A CONSCIENCE!
IT DOESN’T HAVE A SOUL!
IT DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT THAT MY KIN ARE DYING!
THE ONLY WAY FOR US TO SAVE OURSELVES IS TO FIGHT BACK!
FOR US TO BURN CITIES TO RUBBLE!
FOR US TO SPLIT THE EARTH OPEN!
FOR US TO SCREAM LOUD ENOUGH TO SHATTER GLASS!
FOR US TO REVOLT!
our kin are dying, facing genocide, and I can’t be anything but angry
Driskill is the one author we’ve read who understands this.
Driskill makes a similar point in Pedagogy.
“What does this classroom have to do with you anyway?
What does it have to do with any of us?” (Driskill Pedagogy)
Every day I have to hear about the shit that goes on outside of our classroom and I have to ask myself, when I’m going to class in the morning, “What does it have to do with any of us?”
I’ve come to the answer that it has very little to do with me.
Yours With Blood and Rage of Crimson Red,
Carmine “Red” Zingiber
I completely agree with what you are saying. When reading this poem, I was infuriated. It made me think on everything going on in the world and things close to me. People do not want candles, they want justice. People do not want speeches, they want action. The world will not change if nothing is done. How can we say we are honoring these people when all we do is talk? Candles and armbands do not bring them back. We should do something that truly brings back their memory in the right way.