Dance be all of this beat we beat into
the earth. Every celebration broke in
by the feet. We stomp our names into this
dirt. Let praise be the mouth that bakes the child
whole. Oh holy rhythm, how we laugh from
you. My grandma taught me the electric
slide. My mother showed me how to ballroom.
And with both we say congratulations
What sought to kill us has not and will not.
But here, we use our knees to name a new
moon. Blessed party of gods raining joy.
Precious young, our legs hold so much magic.
So much will to cast these spells in the dark.
We, what is left of our joy, here alive.
Jason B. Crawford is a black, bi-poly-queer writer born in Washington DC, raised in Lansing, MI. In addition to being published in online literary magazines, such as Wellington Street Review, Barren Magazine, The Amistad, and Kissing Dynamite, he is also the Editor in Charge for The Knight’s Library Magazine. His chapbook collection Summertime Fine as a Short List selection for Nightingale & Gale.