I FEEL MOST WHITE WHEN WALKING MY DOG

after Morgan Parker (after Glenn Ligon after Zora Neale Hurston) A Poem By Dave G

Or,

I

Feel most White. Or,

Walking Dog. Or,

My dog,

My cover,

My shaggy protector.

I

Moor

Her leash

To the pier of my fist

Yet she is my anchor,

My tether to belonging.

I

Know

Between us

She is the only thing

This growling sea

Of concrete and Karens

Won’t devour.

I

Saunter beside her

And suddenly I am visible,

Nonthreatening, approachable.

I

Often forget

Who is walking who.

I

Love her

Because she is ungovernable.

I

Remember every second

I’ve been made America’s mongrel—

Good boy,

You bark so proper.

I love your mane,

Can I pet you?

You’re so well behaved

For such an aggressive breed.

I

Hear their slick whistles;

They want to put me down.

I

Don’t know the names

Of any Black people

Murdered by the police

While walking their dog.

I

Don’t mean

It has never happened

Or will never happen

Or isn’t happening

Right now.

I

Mean, every cop

Is more likely to stay

Their stray trigger finger

If they know a canine

Would be without its master.

I

Mean, every cop

Is well-trained

On the importance

Ofa master.

I

Mean

Every cop.

I

Dislocate

My shoulder

As she pulls me towards

The place we call

Home.

I

Command—

Heel!

But she is as disobedient

As the tumor in her bones

We later couldn’t bury.

I

Don’t walk as often,

As freely, anymore.

I

Stay.

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