Black Men Dream - Still Art Film

Clean Mental Slate


He was only thinking of the pain,
Wanting equally violent revenge.
Curled up on the wet road side,
The broken white pointed bone
Protruding from his shin
Seemed so surreal that night.

It had just occurred to him,
He couldn’t recall their faces
And his memories were fading.
The morning was cold and foggy,
His back against the guard rail,
He closed his eyes once again.

Awaking in an emergency room,
Another injured John Doe
Without the faintest memory.
Neither the broken nose and shin
Or the bruises on his body,
Reminded him of anything.

The medical professionals,
Both doctors and nurses, could not say
If the amnesia was permanent.
With no next of kin to contact,
They could not afford the expense
Of keeping him there indefinitely.

He walked out the hospital,
And was assigned a social worker
Who was helpful and patient.
While he occupied his time
Relearning basic life skills
That were new and challenging.

Life became the stages
That are built into new memories
On a clean mental slate.
When he thought about before,
All he could not remember
Was what was left unavenged.

Ria 2016