Keep the Stone

What began as a sedentary moment of uneasiness convulsed into anger.
The gathering of my dismembered wit returned to form. Ben had tossed a
stone that shattered menagerie. I would eventually toss it back. 'Slaves
were immigrants coming to America in pursuit of the fledgling American
dream' says Ben. America was a glass house then. Looking back I now
throw stones, for I’m as shattered now as my slave ancestors were then.
What was broken then has been reassembled. Ben, show me the boat
manifests listing each slave by name. I'll pick up the glass and you Ben
keep the stone. Add it to your burgeoning collection as a reference point.

— Keep the Stone

© 2017 by emmett wheatfall

All Right Reserved


  1. I think he's already too busy rolling his own stone uphill.


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I cannot speak for my poetry, it must speak for itself.