Poetry: “dear Coney Island” by Gia Shakur
dear Coney Island
Dear, the book pried the water with a door stop
petitions were offered to the blackened swell.
Whittled spirits and last bones rabbets wind.
Ungovernable, some priestesses of cut;
Tough bellied however shaken eyes doll,
preservation calls from bend.
they watched the current bend
pray i can make it stop
project reversal witch doll
throated violet and eye invites swell
gyal muddled voice is clear cut
(d)them peoples stove char and tossed to wind
Junebug curl her legs, her back ah wind.
Armored and ambergris watch she bend
a different black girl, above the cut.
course, refined, bounce and stop
Feathered notes over her back as laps swell
locker room heathen, she applies Fenty, a doll.
Soapbox screams grievance with the doll
claims a reckoning on the wind.
She can leave her kings. Fine, swell.
Carving curse, protects women that bend
angry since 8 grades, ponytails and the bus stop.
slack the amber of my skin, bleachen cut.
Monk made family from cut
dots rubber cement on the head of doll.
Her father asked her to stop
making houses of paper and wind.
Spiriting almighty in book’s bend
a magician, plumes eye, soon to swell.
Seed, the conquer, welcomes babe from swell.
Born in the orca with wings long cut.
hot hed, hands were laid, knee WONT bend.
Lead-crossed, given to be bad mon’s doll.
Named of Gihom, she blinds that wind.
in last book. and this, Jesus dies at the end – stop
About Gia Shakur
Gia Shakur is a writer and visual artist based in Harlem, NY. Her work has been featured in Foglifter 5.1 and 6.2, Guttermag : The Green Issue, Rigorous Magazine, Sinister Wisdom, Broadkill Review and Grungecake. She is an inaugural graduate fellow of The Watering Hole and is currently studying Creative Writing at SUNY Purchase. She is a cat mom who loves true crime documentaries.