Sugar Hill Play-date v. Oz-low Piece Process

Raymond Nat Turner, BAR poet-in-residence

14 Feb 2018

35 lb question mark,

3 ft exclamation point,

doesn’t cringe at loud sounds or

pee his bed behind nightmares.

Camryn, my three year-old Sugar

Hill neighbor’s an “Old soul.”

I’m honored that he refers to

me as, “My friend, Raymond.”

Camryn's mommy’s a surgeon, studying

for her boards. His granny’s a history

professor, writing another book. So, I’m

Awarded a Camryn playdate…

Camryn has every truck ever made—

and knows precisely each truck’s function.

He teaches Truck101to anyone in earshot.

He warns work will not begin before his

bright, yellow hardhat’s jammed over jet

black curls. He buckles his tool belt low and

tight. He’s studied styles and moves of the

Working-class; has them down pat.

Camryn creates tasks for each truck, then

Schools me on how the crane of one truck works.

He doesn’t trust me with the trucks.

Blessed, he believes mommy and granny will

Protect him from scary things; feed and

Hydrate him after he plays hard; read

and sing sleepy-time lullabies, enforcing

Peaceful naps as the Sandman invades…

So, I spare Camryn Fractured Fairytales of

Ambulances twisted into burning, bloody metal

hulks; pieces of cloth, shoes, drivers and assistants.

I spare him Fractured Fairytales from Oz—

Natives driving zig-zag routes ‘round a

Frankenstein scar dissecting their homeland;

Land where his trucks would have different

Color license plates and stop at checkpoints

manned by teenaged thugs eager to cast lead…

Traveling Oz by truck, Camryn might see Caterpillars

crunching toys, houses, olive trees, crushing dreams;

He might see fools flying featherless birds shitting

shrapnel and white fire.

He might hear overloaded donkey carts squealing,

Moaning like Mothers of itty-bitty, bloody bodies

piled on them—bodies later stuffed in ice cream freezers,

to slow their rotting; bodies so shredded, even Camryn's

surgeon mommy—couldn’t put their tiny arms, legs and

Heads back together again…

I spare my friend Fractured Fairytales: crushing trucks like his…

Besides being our poet in residence at Black Agenda Report, Raymond Nat Turner is an acclaimed poet and performing artist. Find much more of his work at http://upsurgejazz.com.

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