Photo: Chuck Huru
Poetry
Spring/Summer 2017
Walking the Circle
by Keisha-Gaye Anderson
​
How many times
can you walk a circle?
​
You are breathless
in this flesh
blind and forgetful
and partially deaf
pulled by the nose
across the globe like cattle
aching from a boundless hunger
which is really only
questions
​
Why I?
Why now?
Why pain?
Why at all?
​
And you are marching
toward that carrot
straight into the mouths of cannibals
that live in your
peripheral vision
in the foreground
in the background
in the space in
between your eyes
​
They are a mist
coating you with
a mask that you
mistake for
your reflection
So when you hear,
A man was shot today
A man was lynched today
A street vendor was bulldozed today
A woman was raped today
A child...
​
You say,
"That is out there"
​
But
how many times can you walk a circle?
and not know that
You are the corpse
The wrinkled street vendor
The strange fruit
The woman sawed in two
The child
The child
The child?
​
How many times
how fast
can you walk
a circle
before crashing into
yourself?
Keisha-Gaye Anderson is a Brooklyn-based poet and writer. She is the author of the poetry collection Gathering the Waters (Jamii, 2014) and has been widely published in such literary magazines as Renaissance Noire, African Voices, Mosaic, and The Mom Egg Review. Keisha, who holds an MFA from The City College, CUNY, is a past participant of the VONA Voices and Callaloo writing workshops. Follow her on Twitter @KeishaGaye1.