ELEGY Poem: For you Minnie Mae McCree, by CIERAJEVAE GORDON

Another word for Great
Long mother
Stretching her arms across three generations
I ask, how many greats go in front of your name granny
And i hear her
At the same time, an obituary rewinds
Her picture is erased
In loving memory ignores that it ever existed
And the mourning never quite begins
And i see her
Like i had never seen her before

“If my grandma says she’s old, like a elder
What that make you? Ancient, royal, arrived”
There are still too many words tucked into her throat chakra
The weeping receded
effortless , unnoticeable overtime
Like a bald head that has no memory of a weighted skull

She was always all of that
Hand in full conversation to hip
Moving about the kitchen
Listen, there aint nothing like her cookin’
Head cocked, a layer of sass breaks the scale
her smirk, a full prayer
Line of aunties and God’s leading ladies
Her voice erupts the room
Into a full soprano ansemple
Singing
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
[i mean vocally running alllll over the place]
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
Let it shine, Let it shine, all the time oh yes

And they asked her
If she was a choir
And if she was a choir
If she were a revival
And if she was a revival
If she were holy

And if she was holy
If she transcends an earthly body
And if she transcends an earthly body
She were God
And if she was God
She was me, my mama, sisters, aunties
All Black/ All womb
And if she were this lineage
She must have been mad connected to the spirit
Have you ever seen a Black woman

surmise the summoning of sinners
Her blood/ mouth open wide
We know how to devour the body and pouring of Christ
On a sunday morning
Right before collection plates clatter for a second time in the same service
Don’t you dare deny an offering
A portion of your riches
That really belong to God anyway
Cause He can pick you up right now,
if you wanna get foolish

Grandma, your daughter, always gave me a $5 bill to drop in the collection plate
And i would be mad cause like i could only give once

Of somebody else’s money

But i was raised in a mantra
Of God is good all the time
& all the time, God is good

And grandma
Great grand, long mother
i don’t mind breaking the 4th wall for you
to say
I love you
I wish i got to spend eternity wide eyes bouncing on your lap
Memorizing your recipes
Holding your heart
With my laughter
& even though i never ever got to meet you
I just wanna say
Thank you
For visiting me in all these poems

For dancing your way into the present
So the future knows exactly what is coming
I am your choir
A full lipped scripture
Inscribed on this black girls tongue
“Life is tough, yes baby but I’m waaay tougher”

Asè