Don't Call Us Dead: Poems by Danez Smith
From Graywolf Press:
Finalist for the National Book Award for Poetry
Winner of the Poetry Society of America's Four Quartets Prize
bad dog. bad blood. bad day to be a boy
color of a July well spent. but here, not earth
not heaven, we can’t recall our white shirts
turned ruby gowns. here, there’s no language
for officer or law, no color to call white.
if snow fell, it’d fall black. please, don’t call
us dead, call us alive someplace better.
we say our own names when we pray.
we go out for sweets & come back.
—from “summer, somewhere”