Not an Elegy for Mike Brown

The title defines the poem against the thing that it is not: an elegy. Elegies are poems of serious reflection, typically written as laments for the dead (Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary). However, the negative word “not” suggests that mourning Mike Brown, a man whose name is only known in relation to his violent death, is not the poem’s main concern. Rather, this negation suggests a scope beyond the individual; the poem’s action extrapolates out from this singular death to explore the collective, historical trauma of Black death, emphasizing its routine horror within modern society.

The first line exposes the strengths and limitations of poetry as a political response; the tone is laced with exhaustion and disgust, admitting that “I am sick of writing this poem” (Line 1). The idiom of being “sick of writing” implies the speaker’s repeated encounters with death, suggesting that they have written countless, similar poems, none of which have stopped the continued murder of Black boys (Line 1). However, despite the perceptible futility of this pursuit, the speaker still says: “but bring the boy. his new name / his same old body” (Lines 2-3), accepting that the only action left is to bear witness yet again and “mourn / until we forget what we are mourning” (Lines 4-5).

The language of boyhood asserts that childhood innocence does not protect Black youth from racially motivated violence. Instead, the poem indicates the normalization of this racial violence by describing it as “ordinary” (Line 3). The plainness of diction emphasizes the routine dehumanization of Black boys, and this emphasis further expresses itself in terming the latest dead body as a mere “thing” (Line 4), expendable and unimportant (Line 4). The newness of the name (Line 2) represents the rampancy of these particular murders, and how quick the general public is to forget the victims.

The speaker contends that contemporary Blackness is defined by these deaths and the tragic loss of countless Black bodies: “& isn’t that what being black is about? / not the joy of it, but the feeling // you get when you are looking / at your child, turn your head, / then, poof, no more child” (Lines 6-10). “poof” (Line) is an onomatopoeia, the formation of a word from a vocal imitation of the sound it is associated with. The word emphasizes the abruptness of Black death, and these lines together convey the generational natural of this fear of unjustified murder—a trauma that effects every member of the Black community.

Smith explores the racial inequities in the societal treatment of bodies through the extended allusion to Helen of Troy. The mythological language quickly takes over the poem across Stanzas 6-12 with a juxtaposition: The kidnapping of “a white girl” (Line 12) contrasts with the familiar murder of Black youth. Alliteration—or the deliberate repetition of the same sound—of the harsh -t consonant imitates the lines’ action: “think: once, a white girl // was kidnapped & that’s the Trojan war. // later, up the block, Troy got shot / & that was Tuesday” (Lines 12-15). Sonically, the harshness of the repeated -t mimics the harshness of the violent situation. A frustration mounts throughout this section, and the speaker questions why Black people “are not worthy” (Line 15) of the same justice white people receive when they are harmed. While Smith relies on a narrative of the Trojan War that is inaccurate (the mythological Helen was not rescued for her value as a person; she was forcefully reclaimed as an object to secure the Spartan king’s political power), the poem’s version invokes, to great dramatic effect, the popular modern conception of Helen: a woman worth an entire war. The poem contrasts the idea of a rescued “white girl” (Line 12) with an ignored, murdered Black body. Helen of Troy is not killed, but kidnapped and—in the narrative implied by Smith’s poem—fought for and saved. The loss of Helen is apportioned a world-changing historical event; meanwhile, countless Black people are not “rescued” and are viewed as part of a depersonalized, homogenized group (Line 13).

The poem does not end with a platitude, nor does it tie everything up with a bow; it leaves the stark image of smoke over Missouri, calling attention back to Mike Brown, his story, and the continuing national unrest.