“I cannot hear you speak but your letters take me to the far reaches of the world.”*
Troy Davis
Seasonal Still Life – read by edgardo
Today, there were piles of feathers
and a detached wing
outside the Meadowlark aviary
where we found the peachicks,
their small bodies torn asunder.
Marauders—probably raccoons,
maybe babies themselves,
followed drought-driven hunger
that took them away
from the remnant of a stream
where “fishlings” no longer
squirmed in the mud.
It was the last day of summer.
105 degrees had reduced to 95 at midday
and 75 at night
in Los Ebanos, Roma, Rio Grande
where more walls
will be built on flood plains
homes will be evacuated ,
and young animals will die–
if autumn rains ever come, again.
Yet, tonight, fires still smolder
& Atlokoya, goddess of drought, reigns,
though the peachicks’ remains look more
like the dismembered Coyolhauhqui.
And tonight, the last day of summer,
at 11:08, their time, the lights
went out again in Georgia.
Tonight, despite the chanting
that connected the continents
in the light of prayer and good will,
Troy Davis was executed.
On this last day of summer,
he refused his last supper,
in order to spend time with his friends.
Kamala Platt
September 22, 2011
Troy Davis’ words come from his final letter to supporters that I read in Information Clearing House, September 22nd, 2011.
…as one who often tries to do what Kamala Platt did, make connections, see links, I was stunned by what she did with her piece, stunned ….A beautifully upsetting piece, indeed ….
This is a powerful, thought provoking and touching piece of art… Thank you very much Kamala.