πππππ πππππβS FATHER CUSSES OUT EVERY ππππ₯π PERSON IN THE AUDIENCE WHILE DISCUSSING THE DEATH OF HIS ONLY SON
El Williams III
November 2020 β January 2021
This is an excerpt of an excerpt of a longer experimental poem in progress. Though Iβm considering all poems to be experiments,
I say experimental here, as in itβs a language-driven poem that is also curious about readersβ visual and aural interactions with it in regards to form and content. As a Kwansaba working as a chant, this piece represents ode and elegy, and acts as a memorial for Abdul Kamal (a Black man murdered by American police in an American city).
Iβve learned that the imperative, βgive this body its body back,β stands in for many different things for many different people. For some, the body, here, represents land. For some, the body, here, is a means of mental and physical ability. For some, the body, here, is an object surveilled by patriarchy. Though all of these work, Iβm considering, first the fatherβs demand, then secondly the collective demand of the Black body (physically, emotionally, spiritually, economically, etc.). Reparations. Repair. Ultimately, this is a demand for reclamation of oneself.
Thinking of the now, as weβthe worldβ undergo the Covid-19 pandemic and global uprisings against white supremacy, itβs my hope that this PSA serves as a call to action. Justice.
About
El Williams III is a St. Louis native. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Alaska Quarterly Review, The Journal, River Styx, Vinyl and elsewhere. He has received fellowships and scholarships from Cave Canem, Community of Writers, Tin House, and The Watering Hole. Currently he lives in Bloomington where he is an MFA candidate in poetry at Indiana University.