above us there are no helicopters 
not like when the wind 
smelled like california soot 
and every hour sirens wove 
their hair into ours and sung 
names to enchant cacophony 
say their names and we were home 
your sister newborn in my arms 
protecting her life protest 

weeks before, each time a plane 
scored the berkeley sky in white 
you would point up 
say mamma because i am always 
in the sky even when my skin 
burns in the sun next to yours 
how my eyes leak with storms 
you cannot yet name 
west and unhinged weather 

there are no helicopters today 
you bang on a wheelbarrow 
with dried bamboo stalks as drumsticks 
and lift your toddler throat up to shout 
‘cotto! over and over again 
 a screamo chorus 
lyrics perfectly formed to your ears 
i nod only yes 
and keep beat 

at the people's park 
marchers assemble 
with banners of i can’t breathe 
san pablo, i can hear 
the horns of a car parade 
inside the mourners shout behind masks 
from open windows 
while a virus flies around us all 
pandemic in crown 
and white

surrounded by fences 
i can keep you safe 
and breathing 
until i can’t 
every door has the threat of splinter 

there are no helicopters today 
‘cotto you yell 

somewhere they descend 
somewhere a body hangs 
halfway between metal and earth