Five hundred forty seconds.
Time in which an athlete
Can run a mile and a half.
A couple can have rushed,
Workday-morning sex.
A teacher can teach about the stars.
A killer can keep his knee
On the neck of a man.
Bystanders raise their phones, video
A defense at least against erasure.
The athlete huffs toward the line.
The couple finish, kiss, and dress, smiling.
The bystanders beg and are ignored.
The teacher is talking about plasma and gas,
How the earth’s movement creates
What we see as twinkling.
Now some cities burn, years
Of bitter repetition going up in flames,
The grief of Black parents
Endless tinder, hopelessness
Behind the boots that shatter glass.
Other protesters peacefully
sit in the street repeating his name.
For nine minutes, traffic stopped.
The lovers sit at separate cubicles.
The teacher explains what glows in darkness
Is the light from those that died.