Birthright AKA My Father Explains How We Got Here
I’m not sure how many more times
you want to hear your own myth
The Blue Moon spit you out
which I thought was your first mistake
Son you only get a few resurrections
and you used one already
in a night full of red wings
and light dangling in steam
but hey sometimes we don’t have a choice
in what blood we rode in on
Anyway the cardinal came to the window
and I knew
somewhere something I cared about
was spilling
So I take off running after your mother
a scarlet prayer unraveling behind me
“God, I hope he looks like his mama”
I got in just before the blades
sharp things brought you into this world
sharp things might be what keep you here
they cleaved your mother’s stomach
like a fresh snowfall
you came from scars boy
if nothing else you get that from me
Julian Randall is a Living Black poet from Chicago. He is a 2016 Callaloo fellow, Lois Morrell Poetry Prize winner and the 2015 National College Slam (CUPSI) Best Poet. He currently works as a teaching artist with the Philly Youth Poetry Movement. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Offing, Winter Tangerine Review, The Killens Review, and Pluck! A Journal of Affrilachian Arts & Culture. He is a candidate for his MFA in Poetry at Ole Miss.