A Gasp for Breath
A Poem About Being Black and Male in North America
i can’t breathe not on Staten Island not on the streets of Minneapolis where the story is played out differently yet always exactly the same
i can’t breathe not when a cop has me in a chokehold or is kneeling on my neck for human bodies are not designed to inhale fresh air when racists with badges heavily exhale as they snuff out my ability to exist
i can’t breathe because my color has already triggered you as surely as a fearful finger pulled back and released – a discriminating shot that took out many others like me you hold my life in the balance of the power exerted on my neck humanity ended by your inhumane grip
i can’t breathe everything hurts please officer let me go you’re choking the life out of me
i can’t breathe not on Staten Island not on the streets of Minneapolis where the story is played out differently yet always exactly the same
and if i can’t breathe there
where in this world can i breathe?
© A. Gregory Frankson, 2020. All rights reserved.
Greg Frankson is a former Canadian national poetry slam champion with words published in collections, anthologies, audiovisual recordings and literary journals. He was the poet laureate for the International Initiative for Mental Health Leadership and on-air current affairs poetic commentator for CBC Radio One. Follow Greg on Twitter, Instagram and Medium (@greg_frankson).