Drill
A battle drill is a collective action executed by a platoon or smaller element without the application of a deliberate decision-making process. The action is vital to success in combat or critical to preserve life. The drill is initiated on a cue, such as an enemy action or simply a leader’s order, and is a trained response to the given stimulus.
—Battle Drills for the Infantry Rifle Platoon and Squad,
United States Department of the Army Headquarters
with a line from Carl Sandburg
Whereas cops didn’t respond until the rind of my
uncle’s person was crusted over by snow;
Whereas there are disturbing indications that the Chicago
Police Department murdered Fred Hampton in
cold blood;
Whereas my mother mooned the cops when her sons
were hemmed up for rushing to the streets
once the Bulls won the ’98 finals;
Whereas the morbid snow angel his body made
that winter;
Whereas the cops came knocking because we played
The Chi-lites too loud for that side of town;
Whereas there are disturbing indications that the Chicago
Police Department murdered [Dexter Reed] in
cold blood;
Whereas I asked my nephew what he wanted to be
when he grew up and he said, A police;
Whereas BULLSEYE! the pig oinked for sport;
Whereas someone please tell my children I loved them.
Uh-huh, please tell them I yelled, Fuck 12;
Whereas winter snow froze him his corpse a marbled
angel;
Whereas my mother was arrested for indecent ex-
posure, cuffed and carted off our block;
Whereas on GD plz tell my kids I love em, on GD plz
tell em I said, Fuck 12;
Whereas I asked my nephew what he wanted to be
when he grew up and he answered, A drill rapper;
Whereas my mother was indecent, exposed, arrested;
Whereas gentrification phantomed my great grand-
mother’s home ⸺ 41° 40' 49.8'' N 87° 37'
17.904'' W ⸺ these coordinates, our only
inheritance;
Whereas demolished, there is no there there;
Whereas decency demands I name the arbiters of these
lands ⸺ the Peoria, the Sauk, the Meskwaki, the
Myaamia, the Ochéthi Sakówin, the Kaskaskia,
the Kiikaapoi ⸺ ;
Whereas Drill was never meant to leave the lips
of Chicago and has now made it to the mouths
of Iraq, Palestine, Sudan, France, the UK,
the Congo, and on and on and on;
Whereas I ask my nephew what he wants to be when
he grows up and he responds, Alive;
Whereas we all leapt to the front porch, spotted
the spectacle cross the full hunters moon,
mistook a drone for Molly Means flying
her backwards broom;
Whereas my niece’s parakeet buried deeper beneath
dirt and rubble and dirt and dirt;
Whereas brittle bone marrow now;
Whereas pig nor panther could imagine me;
Whereas we knew the drill, knew the infrared eye
of the state was ever-present, be it blockade or
black site;
Whereas Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action,
cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness
Whereas we cried, Help. They heard, Theatre, then
said, This time with a little bit more feeling ⸺
Copyright © 2024 by Jada Renée Allen. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 27, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.