Phonetics 

Sonia Gomes, Magia

Phonetics 

by Clemonce Heard

for Kamau

I want to call my nephew something toxically endearing or endearingly toxic 

like killa, but I don’t want him to kill. 

I like lil gangsta 

pressed out of John Leguizamo’s mouth in Chef 

but off screen it feels like more nonexistence spoken 

into fruition 

the day my nephew comes home from practice with a black eye 

and broken nose, snuck by a teammate thrice his size, 

his great-grandmother worries. 

One of his teammates was just kilt by another teammate 

over drugs or money or a baby. 

As you probably guessed when I say kilt 

I’m not talking about the skirts Scots wear. When I say baby 

I mean the boy who was killed had a baby on the way. 

Snuck is self explanatory, 

which is to say, use context clues. 

Only those who remained 

in the car know what really took place. Not even the gun knows what it did or didn’t do, 

for its muzzle is not trained 

to hear the scuffle before it wakes nor the sirens after 

once, at a gas station in Algiers, a man who didn’t like me 

and my nephew 

chuckling at the dusty rap he was jamming raised his jacket 

to show he was a killer or a gangster. 

He muttered pussy 

when I began paying 

more attention to the pump. 

The price and gallon trembling up. 

If he’d fired at us 

it’d be just my luck that his gun wouldn’t’ve jammed. 

He might’ve turned my nephew into the evening news 

his grandmother worries over 

watching too many of the much too young to be called dead, murdered 

my nephew wants his round 

and a gun to stop 

whoever rifled through his new car. His mother is scared. 

Round is what our kids say 

when they want to fight someone. Round is what my friends & me called each other. Round 

is a monosyllabic bullet ‘round here. 

Bullets stroll 

around the corners ‘round here— round round round round 

and the bullet returns 

to where it was first fired. 

His matryoshka wants him to turn 

the page, but my nephew has his finger on a word. He underlines it, highlights it: blood, caution tape. 

While trying to hook his finger around it, another boy, 

above his age, is pronounced dead 

at the scene of a word we can’t pronounce.