William Evans is an author, speaker, performer, and instructor from Columbus, Ohio. He is the founder of the Writing Wrongs Poetry Slam and the co-founder and editor-in chief of BlackNerdProblems.com, a website focused on pop culture and diversity. William is a Callaloo Fellow, the poetry recipient of 2016 Sustainable Arts Foundation Grant, the 2018 Spirit of Columbus Foundation Grant and the inaugural Blackburn Fellow as an MFA candidate at Randolph College. His latest collection, We Inherit What The Fires Left, was published by Simon & Schuster in March 2020.
William Evans
Reverse Abecedarian Where Achilles Dies in the Middle
— for Marshawn McCarrel 1993-2016, who drew his last breath in protest
Zoo of small secrets, the caged animals
you held were never silent. Who were the Balius and
Xanthus that pulled you into
warring lands that you held no allegiance for? Forever
vandal. The wind cut in the shape of your hybrid drawl.
Umber-shaded demigod. A spear with a slick
tongue. You began as most boys, I assume. Pulled from the river
Styx, still shimmering like you wouldn’t dare end a world.
Resurrection was a made-up word for
quiet Blacks with destined futures.
Pantheon of sacrifices. We were always a ripe
offering for those who wanted war, who
never wanted to spill themselves. You were
made mortal at the end. You gathered a brief
life and left it and all its legend at the gates of your
killers. What I remember most, were your hands
joining at the palms when you were thinking,
imitating a prayer but you
had so little use to indulge in
gospel. You were thinking how you needed a good
forge to break the world open. You would grin, subtle like an
earthquake. I could see the tremors along your jaw
dance. I could imagine another life when you would
crane your neck skyward and the light would
break across you. The sun would find your face then,
as if you knew exactly where that other life was.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.