For the dverse prompt. I know the theme is black history, but I have a visceral dislike for putting people in boxes. People is people; all that changes is whose foot the boot is on.
The world is made up of two kinds of people: those who are pushed to one side, and those who do the pushing. You don’t have to be black to be pushed, just poor or a woman or have a handicap or a police record. You just have to belong to the wrong religion or have no religion at all, be out of work, out of luck. Do what we say or we destroy your economy. You just have to be the tourist with a full wallet, buying paradise, destroying the environment and a way of life. You just have to be an adult in a brothel full of children, a soldier with a gun in a village full of women.
If you haven’t been there, you can count yourself privileged and perhaps ask yourself, who have I pushed lately, who did I not see when the Brown Shirts marched down my street and kicked in the doors?
waves roll up the strand
where the coffin ships left
a turnstone stalks