SOMETIMES THE TIDE IS SO LOW, YOU CAN SEE THE STEEPLE
by Porsha Olayiwola
When Lake Lanier was formed in the 1950s, it washed over
Oscarville [a predominantly Black town] and turned it into
an underwater ghost town. -Anjali Enjeti
nothing burns more radiant than the bible
of a hell-bent preacher the gleaming sunday shoes
of a little girl and a cross pitched
on the lawn. Martin and Malcolm could tell you
plain from the apertures in their chest: gut
the sanctuary first— prey away
apostles— salt the tongue to sever the wings—
blaspheme the orishas. god is always
the most necessary to destroy. crucify
and become history’s cursed lover. drowned
town hex— the night riders’ reaping. man-made
lakes belong to their holy ghosts. vengeful
deities understand the spire of
the church is just the good lord’s dagger.
Porsha Olayiwola is a native of Chicago who writes, lives and loves in Boston. Olayiwola is a writer, performer, educator and curator who uses afro-futurism and surrealism to examine historical and current issues in the Black, woman, and queer diasporas. She is an Individual World Poetry Slam Champion and the founder of the Roxbury Poetry Festival. Olayiwola is Brown University's 2019 Heimark Artist -In -Residence as well as the 2021 Artist-in-Residence at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Olayiwola earned her MFA in poetry from Emerson College and is the author of i shimmer sometimes, too. Olayiwola is the current poet laureate for the city of Boston.
