In this world we do not speak of Heather’s tears.
She was not crushed on Fourth and Water
by a Challenger in burning Fields
of white crosses emboldened
by a president who cannot assess the potency of words
on a populace of persons but not a People.
She was not crushed on Fourth and Water
by a Challenger in burning Fields
of white crosses emboldened
by a president who cannot assess the potency of words
on a populace of persons but not a People.
We the people have no statuary.
All parks are emancipated from bad art
and all eyes are on the global snapshot:
All parks are emancipated from bad art
and all eyes are on the global snapshot:
e pluribus unum.
Fields do not drive, but grow.
In our world, Heather lives.
In our world, Heather lives.
Mark Kerstetter lives and works in Florida. He is a Pushcart nominee and winner of the Jerry Jazz Musician New Short Fiction Award. His chapbook, "One Step: Prayers and Curses" is forthcoming from Atomic Theory Micro Press. https://marktkerstetter.wordpress.com
On a Recent Visit to Montreal
In early August, we stayed at a hotel near the Olympic Stadium,
oblivious to what was going on there. In this cosmopolitan city
we thought nothing of sharing a café with a group of Haitian men.
We walked over to the Stadium, ghost of its former authority, when
in 1976 impossibly fit athletes were cheered on by admiring crowds.
Deserted, or so we thought, until we heard Latin music piped in
from somewhere, and, a little farther on, we discovered
colorful tents erected outside the main entrance to the Stadium,
strings of lights canopied over the scene—women with strollers,
older children chasing about, men milling in clusters, a ground swell
of fear which prompted them to flee with practically nothing
from a country no longer wanting them, the color of their skin or
country of origin. While we spent the next few days enjoying the beauty
and civility of Montreal, more Haitians arrived. It came into even
sharper focus how America preferred to protect white Supremacists—
what the world will remember us by.
© Nancy Scott
Why are thousands of Haitians streaming into Canada from the U.S.?
Nancy Scott is author of nine books of poetry. Many of her poems deal with social justice issues.
She resides in New Jersey, USA, www.nancyscott.net
On a Recent Visit to Montreal
In early August, we stayed at a hotel near the Olympic Stadium,
oblivious to what was going on there. In this cosmopolitan city
we thought nothing of sharing a café with a group of Haitian men.
We walked over to the Stadium, ghost of its former authority, when
in 1976 impossibly fit athletes were cheered on by admiring crowds.
Deserted, or so we thought, until we heard Latin music piped in
from somewhere, and, a little farther on, we discovered
colorful tents erected outside the main entrance to the Stadium,
strings of lights canopied over the scene—women with strollers,
older children chasing about, men milling in clusters, a ground swell
of fear which prompted them to flee with practically nothing
from a country no longer wanting them, the color of their skin or
country of origin. While we spent the next few days enjoying the beauty
and civility of Montreal, more Haitians arrived. It came into even
sharper focus how America preferred to protect white Supremacists—
what the world will remember us by.
She resides in New Jersey, USA, www.nancyscott.net
