Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
Many thanks to Damon for Wednesday's feature. I also thank him for his copious video taking of the night. It helped with my recapping of the night. The poem this week evokes Black History month as well as the online rage that came up when Joker didn't win Best Picture Oscar. A weird mixture served up just for you. Thanks for reading.
While We Wait to Be Replaced
All it takes is to say the words
out loud, Black History Month,
and some white man goes off
on one more half-researched rant
blames Phillis Wheatley for stealing
the cotton gin from Eli Whitney.
There will be no white washing of
White Jesus, someone all-caps online.
And then we're in trouble, dragged
down in the muck once more,
kids embarrassed for adults
other than their parents.
It will take the one black poet
in a room of half the last supper
to rise phoenix-like again,
burn the weight of dead thought,
take us just above muddy waters
before someone pipes up and asks
Why does the embodiment of
an immortal bird HAVE to be black?
Special thanks to Bil Lewis, Ethan Mackler, Joseph Skoot Mosby, Black Byrd, James Van Looy and special feature Damon.