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"Before," "Amnesty," & "Brittney Griner Is Waiting To Be Free" by Joshua Merchant



Before


when my mother is pregnant with my father’s first

wish and second blessing, he doesn’t know how long

the cab ride she called for will last. only that home

was wherever she was supposed to be. and he was

supposed to be with her. and she was supposed to give

him two sons. and men are supposed to raise their sons

right. and he was a man. he knew that by the way he loved

Her. a free ride I imagine. in exchange for a number of course-

the pager I found in his living room during my adolescence

glowing during what was his present. back when the dance

was just that. a pointed toe. sharp enough to cut a rug

and nothing else. not ties. not a landline. not a vein in two.





Amnesty


one man’s trash gets lost

in an ocean swallowed

by a balloon bellied beast

that regretted waking

up this morning.


I looked in the mirror

and cat-called my forgetfulness.

my reflection called me homeless.

told me to find a park bench.


a city eclipses a pillow at night. a

backpack can look cozy when there’s

nothing inside. everybody wants somebody

to be emptied. we laugh at those who aren’t

full. how convenient for spiked driveways. what


a life it must be to hold the key to a chastised tongue.

it’s okay now though. I’m told if I starve now, it’s because

I didn’t have a sharp enough weapon. I wasn’t big enough.

everyone and everything else was way louder. I smacked

when I chewed anyway. I needed a spoon. there was

no spoon. I should’ve brought my own plate.






Brittney Griner Is Waiting To Be Free


and I wonder what a hoop dream looks

like from the exact spot you shoot to escape

from. overseas a Black woman is detained

for vaping. I called off work this morning, sick

from binge drinking. the night before I let myself

be held by a man I swore hated me. somewhere


another one, straight, in his principles

and lifestyle isn’t shouting to bring her

home but how me and my lover

aren’t doing enough


for her existence. I wake up

having nightmares. wishing

I was somewhere else. a benz

can’t take me where I want to go.

once upon a time I believed


my dreams could. some would say

I am cinematic the way holes burn

through my end credits in dark rooms

and low crowds. Lebron recently starred

in a reboot of a child/hood classic and I

ponder the price for Britney’s nostalgia-

a useless man telling me because I know

myself at best all I do, no, all I can do. is dance.




Joshua Merchant is a Black Queer native of East Oakland, CA exploring what it means to be human as an intersectional being. What they’ve been exploring as of late has been in the realm of loving and what it means while processing trauma. They feel as though as a people, especially those of us more marginalized than others, it has become too common to deny access to our true source of power as a means of feeling powerful. However, they’ve come to recognize with harsh lessons and divine grace that without showing up for ourselves and each other, everything else is null and void. Innately, everything Merchant writes is a love letter to their people. Because of this they've had the honor to witness their work being held, understood, published or forthcoming in literary journals such as 580Split, The Root Work Journal, Anvil Tongue Books, Spiritus Mundi Review and elsewhere.

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