Initiation

By David Harrison

The caged river swelling brown
against its shore of flaking concrete

Anonymous faces
rushing by in metal boxes

The earth disguised
under two feet of asphalt

The sky a distant catacomb
of faceless high-rise windows

Right here,
young men straddle a motorbike

And initiation is not just
for long-lost tribes

It is also for black boys
in the Bronx

Again and again
they sprint across the pavement

Losing control,
crashing, skidding

Leaving parts of themselves
on the clawing asphalt

Old selves shed
like dying skin

Lives they can’t escape from
peeled away for one short hour

Bleeding and smiling,
Limping and proud

Tomorrow they will brag
about their wounds

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