White Noise (Fighting To Wake Up)

black/out
exploding ache
and then, no aching
as I try to raise an arm, and fall,
utter a word, or sound, and fail,
civil war
of a body dreaming two dreams,
only one of which is called
a black man in america,
the other, america
itself, which a white man,
sitting alone in the bleachers
around a deserted diamond,
might mistake
for a rope in the back of a truck,
or a lone tree in foul
territory, or worse,
all three.