Sarah Gord Blog 10

The mix of clinical and poetic language in “NO WOUND OF EXIT” tie together universal and particular in particularly compelling ways. In many ways, the boy in the poem is “universal;” he remains nameless and is only given a number, and what seems to be an autopsy report could unfortunately be describing many black men perceived to be dangerous or criminal. On the other hand, the speaker lends specificity to her descriptions with lines like, “The black face is suppressed fireworks” and “surrounded by dripped brick, night shriek, vermin and hiss.” These specific details remain universal, however, as the speaker uses some of the same language of the report: “the black face,” “it” – this time to emphasize and underline the dehumanization inherent not only in the language of the autopsy report but also in the way that black men are perceived. The poem also transitions from descriptions of “the boy,” “the black face,” to a more general “a black boy,” highlighting again the universal in this kind of report.

Even as the speaker acknowledges that this could be anyone, she also laments this fact and responds passionately and exasperatedly with lines like “Pause for the definition of a normally developed black man,” forcing the reader to sit in the language for longer; “Correction,” highlighting where the report itself is false or incomplete; and “Anus intact? Sigh,” showcasing the tragedy and desperation inherent in repeated violence against black men (and women). The voice of the speaker seems personal and specific, yet it too also represents a larger community of people desperate for change.  

The speaker doesn’t let the reader off the hook either, and when she addresses a “you,” it’s either implied in “Pause” or implicit in “He can no longer harm you.” The “you” is also both universal and particular, as it could be interpreted as a single “you” to the reader or a more collective “you” as in white America. Regardless, the sarcasm and spit with which the speaker addresses the “you” further forces the reader to sit with the tragedy of a young black boy’s death.

Like so many others we have read, the poem extends beyond this present moment; the speaker encourages us to “remember, a buyer would handle the penis of a potential purchase” to link modern forms of racism and oppression to slavery. I’m not sure I understand the specific reference of the “steamy, jack-booted foot of Florida,” but imagining Florida as America’s “boot,” I wonder if this references the ways this country has screwed over and aimed to oppress black folks (I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this line).

I was also so struck by the language in the third to last stanza beginning with, “A black boy can fold his body around a bullet.” I find this description so chilling, as the phrasing makes it feel like there is choice in a powerless moment (the word “can”). The juxtaposition of death and mothers drills home the speaker’s attempt to humanize and revive this young man, stripped of his identity through the clinical language of the report. I found the final line to be the most devastating: “A black boy’s lungs collapsing. A mother picking up a phone. The same sound.” I can’t even begin to imagine how utterly heartbreaking the news of a son’s death would be, but this is another moment where the “universal” is devastatingly personal and specific.

The current moments of protest in this poem seem to be the disproportionate and seemingly consequence-free murder of black men, as well as the non-reaction as represented through language of an autopsy report. The plea for black deaths to be problematized, questioned, not normalized, as well as the assertion of black male humanity strike me as the centers of protest of this poem.