Polar Bear to the Iceman
by Phillip Shabazz
Found an old scratch to scribble. Dig streaks.
No joke. I want to call you. My bubble graffiti
will not wound your wall. A face-off does
not burn your breath. The ghost dog on my phantom
train shakes you off guard. The spray paint,
jungle green, greased ink might make you
step back. It’s not a threat. My magicians
shroud stars in snow. They do not choke
rivers with plastic. On second thought,
I don’t want to call you. I want you to call
off your police dogs. Leave me alone
with my loop of letters. Walk away
when we see each other, like a white flag
negotiates ceasefire in a battle: sleepy eyed,
not a zero-sum game, just an American
nonviolent masterpiece.
About the Author
Phillip Shabazz is the author of three collections of poetry, and a novel in verse. His poems have been included in the anthology, Home Is Where: African-American Poetry from the Carolinas. Previous publication credits include Across The Margin, Impspired, Fine Lines, Galway Review, Obsidian, Hamilton Stone Review, and Louisville Review.