Handle Bars
amid the peaceful standstills in Augusta Georgia
1981, race stains the ground with cantankerous isms
blurted with a placid hate
but I'm 12 years old now
my bike is still black
the chain is of rust
orange
the hand bars are tokens of deceit
my hands slip with frustration
but I'm happy
I'm free
I'm alive
though I wonder if happiness and freedom and vitality
are wishful thoughts shared by the establishments
the founding fathers
of yesteryear
and the jails filled with seas of ebony
of seamless forever
will I have a motor bike in 10 years
or will I be writing about one in a room
with bars
that are too greasy
to hold on too
Ernest Williamson III is an artist and poet. He is currently a Ph.D. student at Seton Hall University.