a Golden Shovel after Gwendolyn Brooks’ The Blackstone Rangers & Boy Breaking Glass
and we will name the island after
the summer when the gonorrhea gang
finally learned to stop kissing
with their mouths open, when the girls
who we were, with our amethyst bruises turned
violets un-bludgeoned by our blooming, are
lipped in metallic blue and rimmed in black gossamer
and hung with hoop earrings, our sweet
names cursived between the bamboo gold.
and on the island, we will be the exotics:
we will be young and untouched and they will crave
our fat bodies, our bulging mouths, our
sea salt and creole and we can say
anything and be beautiful
doing so, and on the island, anyone who loves us
will be full of flower and flaw
and we will love them black and we will kiss their palms
and we will decorate their faces with gemstones and
on the island, we will dance to the Whitney song
that makes us cry, we will lilt a terrible
dance beneath a quiet moon and we will glow like some fire-lit and
sky-bound balloon, some gorgeous and floating ornament.
M. Mick Powell is a queer black femme feminist poet. Her poems and essays have been published or are forthcoming in Winter Tangerine, The Feminist Wire, Apogee Journal, Nat. Brut, and others. Mick’s chapbook chronicle the body was released by Yemassee Journal in March 2019. In her free time, Mick enjoys talking about beauty products, bodies, Beyonce, and baked goods.