Grace: Kill Your Heroes
MI CAYITO
we’re waiting
for the bus to
Mi Cayito and the promise
of white sandy beaches
the salt of anticipation
in our sweat
the thing with saying
how much you want
the Havana sun is
you can’t really complain when
the bus stop has
no shelter
a taxi, dusty
red(?)
circling
circling
rolls up
windows down
“beach? no more waiting, come”
and we’re off in his
time machine
in fits and starts
because the road to heaven is never easy
blaring salsa and
miniature baseball hats bobbing
on the dashboard
“you just never know in Cuba
you plan to
take the bus, then you end up
taking Leo’s taxi with
a Swedish guy and his
madre Cubana”
as if it were that easy
to stumble
into paradise
KILL YOUR HEROES
the first time
I ever saw you
you were leading the
Philadelphia 76ers to the NBA finals
against a Lakers juggernaut
on one hundred sixty-five pounds of
tattoos and cornrows
you were a walking unapology
so much swagger
the NBA declared a dress code
to contain your durags and baggy jeans
and recreate you in its own image
but there are no uniforms
off hardwood courts
this is how idols are born
this is how a shy girl
raised to fear the Lord
the devil and her own queer self
becomes fearless like you
have to be when you’re the smallest player
learns to fight through giants
with flair
always with flair
this is how one man
brings twenty thousand people to worship
at the feet of signature Reeboks
four nights a week
on SportsNet and TSN
but godliness is not
a part-time job
even gods make
music of murder, 40 Bars
of money, blood, and pulling triggers
I traded one God of violence for
another, yet
another god
who has painted me with death
yet another god who will not
see me
there are still
no out NBA players
there is still no
place for shy girls in
hoop dreams
hip hop dreams
or the American Dream
we are
not
on the same team
after all
Grace is a settler living in Ontario on the traditional and Treaty territory of the Anishinabek people, now known as the Chippewa Tri-Council comprised of the Beausoleil, Rama, and Georgina Island First Nations. Her debut collection of poetry, The Language We Were Never Taught to Speak, is published by Guernica Editions and a Lambda literary award finalist. Her work can be found in Grain Magazine, Contemporary Verse 2, Arc Poetry, and elsewhere.
