Gather ‘Round the Stone

Hey, everybody,
Gather ’round the stone.
Dance around and make
Lots of noise,
As if this was an Irish wake.
Pass ’round a whiskey flask;
Be sure to leave more than you take.
The person next to you is dry,
And today we might die,
So let’s party ’round the stone
While our mother’s cry.

 

This stone is for you,
And this stone is for me.
It’s immune to guilt and blame;
Its wrongs no one can see.
“Remember my name,”
The stone whispers
As we raise a raucous.

But we hear nothing, save joy,
While we shake flesh off our bones
As we gather ’round the stone.


*This poem appearsĀ Just Another Angry Black Man.