For My Friend Keasley
(Autumn and E-Crew, 25/22)
I.
In my mind—and sometimes
sub-vocally—I say his name
almost every day.
You see, I call my wallet, “Wally
Gator;” my keys, “Keasley Jones.”
I don’t leave home without them—
A memory trick for remembering
things essential.
II.
Moist morning air burns off into a mild
Mediterranean climate; quiet confidence;
soft spoken humility; Artist’s sensitivity…
and walks in Modesty’s moccasins, Compassion’s
cape, Humility’s tights—and does good deeds sans
Fanfare.
Call him Keasley Jones. Go-to-guy for all things
Science. Suave wiseguy with Whole Earth solution
catalogue. The dude I consulted when fantasizing
Nature ventures.
Hands on superhero masquerading as under-
achiever; Sipping Stanford, Odwalla and other
Brands—before mergers and acquisitions. Be-
fore hitting his Pit Pony Hey-
day. Before managing as Swiss Army Knife of
publishing!
I remember him lending his height, helping
hang photos, posters and shadowboxes on
virgin Freight & Salvage walls: Celebrating
20 years of UpSurge!
I remember unanticipated appearances at
Gigs—sage smile, bent down, semi-squat hug;
I remember messages 2 weeks before his
Death asking if I still needed dental work—
I remember his generous response…Flagged
“For poetry and dental work.”
III.
I beg my ‘white’ people—my Euros—forget a-
bout being like Mike, Oprah—or even John
Brown.
Walk in Keasley’s moccasins a minute—
now and then, here and there…Try
Reinventing yourselves as woke *Prison Radio
Mensches—Assistant Saints like him! Refuse
to turn blind eyes of sand-buried heads away
from concertina wired walls of concentration
camps; guard-towered gulags—violent hellholes
of endless torture…
Paddle in Keasley’s kayak a minute—
now and then, here and there… Try
Scouting downstream hungry, unhoused, hurricane-
ravaged peoples having less than you can imagine…
IV.
November 6, 2019 I wrote on Facebook:
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Keasley Jones, and
best wishes for many, many, many MORE…"
Then I perused his LinkedIn titles and skills and
noticed the one not listed that I’m most missing:
Friend…
*Besides serving as Prison Radio’s Publishing Consultant and Office Manager for several years, Keasley was also part of the Peachpit Press/Addison-Wesley team that published Mumia Abu Jamal’s 1995 book, Live From Death Row.
Former forklift driver/warehouse worker/janitor, Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. You can Vote for his work at:
GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/the-town-criers-big-tooth-fund
PayPal: paypal.me/towncrierRNT
© 2021. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
The assassination of a far-right demagogue raises the question: when does 'free speech' become a tool for inciting violence? Nations like South Africa and Brazil have decided that some speech is not…
“The youth are getting restless. I can't hear you, Let them hear you all the way to Washington, The youth are getting restless, Own creation, The Youth are Getting Restless, And once again a nation,…
"School Shooting Du Jour. War Of The Week" is the latest from BAR's Poet-in-Residence.
Bolsonaro’s conviction is not a victory for democracy but a revelation of its fragility. It exposes a military that remains the armed wing of the ruling class and a fascist project dedicated to…
Nigeria’s inability to refine its own oil is a legacy of British and US imperialism designed to maintain dependence. President Tinubu’s removal of the fuel subsidy was not an economic reform but an…
