The Mother of Othello Comes Before Us

Men raced into darkness look for light.
They return black as my face. My name
that is as flesh made him all the more
an example he could not return.
Had he devoured my discourse, observed
my title, I would not be the monster
in his thoughts. My mystery is the cause.
And when I turn the business of my soul,
it was I who killed her. Had I taught him
to tell my story, would it repair him?
Certain, men should be what they seem,
but doubt was my first gift. Then, fate.
I must confess the vices of my blood—
I love my son. I hate the Moor.



Unboxing / Veteran Material

Nothing needing now
to be tucked away, ready.
This time, the room becomes less
brown as each life—
one by one—empties its rooms. These cubes
of books stacked, marked with three addresses past:
the just-in-case files and the billed work. Due
process of the fat filling the seams
lining this too-small shirt. This too
once held me. (Not to mention the bowl
breaking in the kitchen cabinet, the long crack
like a hair grayed in my beard
some two years now.) I give you up,
break down your homes. Thank them
for their service.



Malcolm Tariq is a poet and playwright from Savannah. He is the author of Heed the Hollow, winner of the Cave Canem Poetry Prize, and the 2020 Georgia Author of the Year Award in Poetry. He lives in Brooklyn and is the senior editorial manager for PEN America's Prison and Justice Writing Program