dead black boys in my pocket

the heard / the performed / the seen

Navigating the world in black skin is a particularly unique journey. Persecution of various sorts affects us daily and has a lasting residual effect.


The number of lives lost due various forms of violence against those that look like me and my family is staggering. This poem is written for all of those dead Black boys who are me. This is to make their screams seem a little more real to those who choose to ignore them.


Production by C & I Studios, Fort Lauderdale

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