Nowhere to Hide by Liz Fortini the crowd looks on as he calls out for his mama “Say….His….Name!” his lifeless body can’t call out anymore, and emptiness fuels the long day police think Americans will agree, the kneel of SHAME their actions turn to darkness in their defense “Say….His….Name!” they work on keeping activists back, forming perimeter lines I…Can’t…Breathe! they could’ve tased him, he’d be led away in handcuffs they could’ve maced him, he wouldn’t escape from the back of their squad car instead, they put their knee on his neck he pleads and pleads “please” “please” “please” without a sister, watching the whole world react without a brother or daughter, each minute more heartbreaking people marching from the streets “Hands…Up…Don’t…Shoot!” they shout sweeping into American history books WHY? memorials, candles, photos, smiles, anecdotes, lines are drawn.. “Justice…for….George!” we wait for the day of justice “Eight…Minutes…Forty…Six…Seconds!” the day arrives, come close now, gather ‘round the tv anxiety grows as we watch, a great weight settles on us “Black…Lives…Matter!” “Bre..onna…Taylor!” police thought Black Lives didn’t matter “Hands…Up…Don’t…Shoot!” the trial leaves nowhere to hide, guilty on all three counts “Say…His…Name!” “George..Floyd!” and justice fuels the long day Copyright 2023 by Liz Fortini
Liz Fortini has been reading poetry and prose for many years. In addition to translating poems of French and Italian poets into English, Liz also submits her poetry to Havik: The Las Positas College Journal of Arts & Literature. She lives in Northern California with her husband Ron, and their dog Jax. Liz is a lover of nature.
