the killing of granny and q kid
by
afram bill (wc) williams
he called for help
but could not
state his case
feeling a threat
that he knew
but could not place
rang nine one one
twice and then once more
they followed a script
name and address
he gave what he could
but got caught in a blip
too distraught to answer
and crying for the police
the operator’s ear
numbed by procedure
and monitored by clock
could not the urgency hear
he called for help
trying to hold onto
that slender thread
whose connection severed
as another took place
finally hearing what daddy said
a dispatch was sent
communication incomplete
no gun, a baseball bat
but “in fear of life”
a cop fired shots
lord knows
should’na been like that
q was the game
for the hunter
in the guise
of server and protector
but really another predator
in the urban night
q called for rescue
from voices unseen
to keep from doing the bid
of malevolent spirits
like the one outside
that killed granny and q kid
sweet granny Betty
who only tried to help
got her blouse wet
and on erie street
life goes on
the mayor
sends his regrets
About the Author and the Poem
afram bill (wc) williams and I met online nearly a year ago, initially because of a shared interest in music. It was a cousin of mine who first made me aware of him, and I first got to know him as “wc” or Bill. As the year progressed, we discovered that we are fellow writers, and we began to encourage each other’s work. The depth of thought and emotion in Bill’s work astounds me, as he is so quiet and centered (“reserved” is not an accurate description) in his writings.
It wasn’t until recently that I learned that Bill is also an actor, with credits in several films, as well as in theatre. But what impresses me most is his poetic voice and the depth of love and support he receives from his many friends. I am honored to be included in that number.
The state of Policing in America is one of the most pressing issues in our nation, especially for people of color, even as we honor Black History. This poem, “The killing of granny and q kid,” touches one of my most frayed nerves—fear of being killed by police; whether on purpose or as a cruel twist of fate is irrelevant. As a Black woman… who also has a mental illness… and in the current craziness of our society, that fear is neither far-fetched nor paranoid, as Bill has so powerfully expressed.
Thanks, Afram Bill (W.C.) Williams, for contributing this poem. You have an open invitation to write in this space.
baltimoreblackwoman 