What Rough Beast | Poem for June 26, 2019

Tracie Marie
Dragons in Our Wake

The news is a review of our world’s shortcomings.
When we watch, there is always a spark—
a raging, tinging red around the edges of our vision.
Like the glowing embers of flame on white papers edges—
devouring.

We see it in the streets of rioting citizens,
the blood of terrified immigrants,
in the shadow of a black boy’s hoodie,
in the strings held by tiny hands,
in the way the man’s eyes darken when the woman tells him no,
in the broken glass twinkling under the Orlando nightclub lights.

Or like the very core of our Earth—
a melting pot from inside out.

To thrive here—
we are asked to sacrifice our boiling blood,
and are prompted to look deeper,
to find a riot ready and waiting.

One torch can’t hold our internal flame—
screaming for oxygen and palpable in the heat of our gazes.

It catches the wind of revolution, spreading like a wildfire.
Licking the length of our scalps—
shooting from our fingertips—
leaking from our mouths in incendiary pools so massive,
a foot stomp could ignite the whole town.

And when the world catches—
what hell will we raise,
to lead a breed of dragons in our wake.

Tracie Marie is a recent graduate of Ball State University, in Muncie, Ind., where she earned a BA in English. In her poetry, she addresses her identity as a queer woman of color. Tracie lives in South Bend, Ind., and this is apparently one of her first poems in publication, perhaps her very first.

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