There Are More Ways to Show Devotion

There Are More Ways to Show Devotion Hanif Abdurraqib (bio) than even the complexity of the shadow, draggingmy own darkness behind & beside meon a day I do not want to get out of bed I liftan arm & darkness expands on a white walla wound sealing itself over the promise of moonlight& this is how I remind myself I am not deadyet even in stillness I am a straight line projected somewhere beyondmyself raised gently into the dwindling brightness a casket waitingto be swallowed but it isn't all badhave you considered your own loneliness is simply a lack of imaginationa child is crying on a plane, devastated by the volume & velocitythat leaving and returning requiresa man lifts his window & makes his hands into what the shadowtranslates into a bird its wings flapping slowly along the airplane's side& the child sighs with the sweetness of disbeliefthere is a bird in my backyard & it is dead in an unremarkable waystorm or electricity or hungerI reach my palm toward the light & my shadow holds the deadin the darkness I make I apologize for a world that could not keep you safe [End Page 40] I apologize for the white wall & all I've asked it to forget & re-learnbut now we're talking about eternity & I prefer a god who makes no promisesbeyond the one that says at the end of it all there will be a shovel& someonewill have to do the digging. [End Page 41] Hanif Abdurraqib hanif abdurraqib* is a poet, essayist, and cultural critic from Columbus, Ohio. He is the author of several books, including There's Always This Year, A Little Devil in America, and They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us.