The Hanging Fruit Pantoum
after “Strange Fruit” by Billie Holiday
This island, this island, there is no life here
Though we sometimes like to pretend that there is.
Our brothers drop from the sky, that’s where we think
We come from.
Though we sometimes like to pretend that there are,
there are no stars that we can see.
We come from
the seas, we come from the seas,
there are no stars that we can see.
In the nighttime, we whisper to the sand. They do not
come from the seas–we come from the seas.
Our necks start to crack, my neck is cracking!
In the nighttime, we shout to the sand. They do not
understand that we are hung from our necks.
My neck starts to crack, my neck is cracking.
I have been strung to this tree, I see nothing else.
Understand that we are hung from our necks.
There is no room for desire inside my cracked throat.
I had been strung to this tree, I saw nothing else.
This island, this island, there is no life here.
Rhegan Stallworth won 3rd place in the Charles Crupi Memorial Poetry Contest for Michigan High School students. For more information on the contest, please visit the Albion College English Department website.
The Albion Review 