A SHADOW’S LAST PARDON
KEHINDE ALONGE
Pardon my non-existence
I was born this way
Shrapnel remains
Caught in the cackling
nerve coils
& chest cavities
that you call a headline
but I call
life in occupied
matter
— muted
Pardon my home
a camp of terror
litanies ingested
by appetites
hungry for histories ignored
& the smell
of burning keffiyehs
— a familiar dehiscence
spilling
the weight of
the world’s
indifference
Pardon you—
the reader of
a shadow’s lament
in blood—
let it shame you
No more pardons
—the might of an olive and
a sky filled with rain
ask for no permission
—neither will the shadows
never again
This poem was originally included in a compilation project called "RESIST COLONIAL POWER BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY" that was put together by the NYC collective and label, PTP. The project functioned as "a gesture towards resistance" with proceeds going toward those in Palestine and Haiti. You can find that project here.