lynch
Learn more about other poetry terms
Is it a lynching?
Is your body hanging like low, strange fruit
Is your family strange fruit with you too
On that tree, is there fallen leaves?
Can you breathe?
Pour her feet in emerald flames
Place her hands in ruby grains
They pulled his brain from the southern swamp
Clenched to a tree.
They poured their golden bleeds on his palms
The flares on his jeans sing to them.
