were like a scalpel
shaping me into
the monster
they want me to be
I’m supposed to be
like a statue
in this courtroom
Chiseled bronze
perfectly frozen in time
like some god
stripped of his power
or a fallen angel
cast into this hell
And every lie
they say about me
every stone
they throw at me
is supposed to bounce off
like tiny pellets
Here I have to be bulletproof
Two Mouths
What happens if I’m found guilty? I ask Clyde
before the deliberation
He taps his pen on his yellow notepad
as if beating out the rhythm to some rhyme
some party anthem for whenfor when
he wins this case
And I want so bad
to grab that pen and notepad
and draw me a victory
a whole scene with dancing shapes
and hard lines turned to joy
That’s not going to happen, he says
Umi said English requires two mouths to speak
and four ears to understand
Clyde spoke with two mouths
One for me and one for the court
Blank Page
Mr. Clyde Richter, my defense attorney
is supposed to save my life
is supposed to create reasonable doubt
is supposed to let that judge and jury know
the truth
But he is part of the white space
on my page
where the charcoal and ink
only graze the edges of his world
of Ms. Rinaldi’s world
of Jeremy Mathis’s world
the white boy whose entire life
is a whole blank page of
this sketchbook
where this story begins
Black Ink
So
I am ink
He is paper
I am pencil
He is notebook
I am text
He is screen
I am paint
He is canvas
I am man
He is boy
I am criminal
He is victim
I am alive
He is almost dead
I am black
He is white
Face Painting
Ms. Rinaldi left the courtroom
after the prosecutor showed pictures
of Jeremy Mathis’s face after the fight
In school, she said I had talent, a gift
She said my lines were soft
my subjects were tender
She said I had a lot of beauty
inside me waiting to bloom
My art teacher of all people should know
I could never make a painting
with the colors of mangled flesh
of broken bone, of bruised skin
out of someone’s face
Movie Star
The people who know me
really know me
are not the ones
the judge and jury want to hear from
It’s as if they wanted to hear a story about
some other kid
It’s as if they wanted to watch a movie about
some other kid
The prosecutor, with his fancy words
his hard evidence
wrote the script, directed the scene
cast just the right actor
to play this kid from the hood
who beat up a white kid really bad
so bad
that he can’t wake up
to tell the truth
Fan Club
And the truth is
nothing else matters except this moment
right now
when I get to turn around to
look into Umi’s eyes
to remind herto remind me
that she believes me
And I want Grandma to know that
I’m goodI’m good
on the inside
Uncle Rashon knew what went down
even before he saw the news
even before he saw the video
even before he saw the picture of Jeremy Mathis’s face
He tried to tell meHe tried to tell me
not to go over to East Hills
My cousins Shay and Dionne tell me
even without saying a word
We got your back, ’MatWe got your back
The other faces are
from the blockfrom the hood
from my schoolfrom my past
I don’t know if they’re watching
this movie with the boy who is playing me
or the real me in this real life
But still, they’re hereThey’re here
My best friend Lucas
ghosted me
ever since this whole shit went down
Black Mona Lisa
My umi’s face is
the most beautiful in the world
Skin
like sleeping in on snow days
beneath thick blankets
black
Smile
like an eighty-degree
summer day in April
bright
Eyes
like long subway rides
looking out windows watching
nothing and everything go by in the dark
and letting my thoughts swim
deep
Picasso Face
My face must be
the ugliest in the world
MonsterPredatorAnimal
You walk on two legs, not four, Umi said
And since that night
I haven’t heard anyone call me boy like she does
call me little man
Alwaysman
born full-grown, full-bearded
full of a life not even lived yet
as if
I’ve never toddled along the sofa
like in the videos on Umi’s phone
I’ve never eaten mashed-up food and
spit up and babbled with a mouth full of pink gums
I’ve never cried for a teddy bear or
laughed at Elmo on Sesame Street
I’ve never worn mismatched shoes
and splashed in a puddle
I’ve never hidden from thunder and fireworks
and angry shouts and gunshots and sirens
as if
I’ve never been afraid of monsters and
predators and animals and
my own face
Cacophony
The judge takes his seat
on the bench and lets us know
that the jury has reached a verdict
And I can hear everyone behind me
shifting in their seats
whispering
mumbling
crying
as if they know
They already know
Order! the judge shouts
and bangs his gavel
But all I hear is chaos
All I know is chaos
The disorder of things, places
and people that have no end
no aim, no destiny, no Allah
Godless like hell
Umi tells me to pray, head bowed
submitting to that higher power who
holds the puppet strings
And sometimes I feel like a toy soldier
and I want to beat my chest
to check my bulletproof vest
in this made-up war
like some rap battle
with no mic, no beat, no sound
It’s so quiet now
I hold my own hands
My leg is shaking
My heart is a drum
My body—
I wish I could float into the air
I wish I could disappear
The Last Judgment
In the case of the People, the juror says
And I wish I had eyes in the back of my head