Laughing at the Trickster God

Laughing at the Trickster God

-for the daughter of Diamond Reynolds one year later

If what actually distinguishes each of us today
is not our personal merit, achievement
even our education;
if it is not the languages that we speak
but the mark,
the very design of our birth

That is,
what purportedly we are
to others
and not what we believe
ourselves to be

That is,
our color not our collar
our gender not our retainer
not even our gender and our color
in a one-two killer crossover

That is,
not a set of right souls
in the wrong bodies
or wrong souls in right bodies

Then how is it that any of us are any more sure
than those little children in Clarendon County
or Harlem
who held Dr. Kenneth Clark’s dolls
and identified with the other
rather than what they were

How many of us might like to be likened to
or follow in train of
a four year old girl who,
with a Glock pointed at her,
was capable of reassuring her mother:

Mother, it will be alright

What is merit of life if not that-
What is life making if not holding
a Chai
or a drum
a chair suspended above our shoulders

Or laughing at the trickster God
who walks between us
forever changing the side of the hat
that we see-

Diamond Reynolds, your daughter
this is what she taught me.

Jeremy Nathan Marks