THE CITY OF DETROIT SPEAKS AFTER DEVIL’S NIGHT, 30 OCTOBER, 1984
Just a reminder: I’m still here.
I’m not fixed:
800 blazes set that night.
That glow you see from Pontiac is the glow of fever.
I am under fire
like Jimmy Hoffa’s body lies
under the east goalpost of the Silverdome.
The homes you abandoned are burning.
They rotted for lifetimes. Strangers came and filled them with needles
and bottles and condoms.
They were full of your memories.
They were sealed like graves: your graves,
exploding from the earth. Your children
once danced in the yards, under the sprinkler’s bow.
The hoses that moistened your gardens were thin.
The water’s been shut off for years.
The windows you looked out each morning are covered with plywood,
still.
Oh, and,
I am coming for you.
Glint Literary Journal 