World War III

My mother is not dying 

But as distant brothers and sisters lose their living 

I can’t help but imagine her memory slipping

Unable to recount bad days in Burbanay

Singing songs of found peanuts in the rain


How do you reconcile being one in a million 

Shouting silently in a sea of the same 

Seeing seasons of violence but only shouting one name


 “Support us now for when your democracy falls

While we take steps to kill them all”


Mattie Grace Levy

I'm a black woman, a classically trained oboist, a self-taught composer, and an introspective poet trying to comprehend my thoughts.

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