On March 13, 1964 Kitty Genovese was brutally murdered, raped while 38 people chose to ignore her cries for help . . . .

Christal Cooper

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http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2017/03/on-march-13-1964-kitty-genovese-was.html

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2017/03/scripted-interview-with-crime-writer.html

*Poem and Painting attributed to Christal Ann Rice Cooper

Senses of the 38 for Kitty Genovese

This body you see,

stabbed seventy times seven,

stumbling, fleeing from

him, the stocking cap                                     

finding a dim hallway.

Then him again, the black fedora

His psychopathic touch

The scent of death.

And then, this body, 

no longer shedding blood.

no longer my habitat . . .

My screams whisper

at the corners of your ears

this tragic song

too sad to sing back.

380 fingers refused to dial,

refused to hear the tone

of a simple black phone.

My hands are pierced.

Not your 38 pairs of hands,

closing their palms

into tight fists.

38 pairs of arms

urged to open like wings

upon a wounded animal

instead arms crossed

as if in prayer with

the Sadducees and Pharisees.

Now my black cloud witnesses

those last 30 minutes.

Can’t forget, though I forgive

as Christ commanded

I Am your mediator,

your patron saint,

your only way

to forget how you’ve forsaken me

is to become as I am

the shell of a body

no longer occupied.

This spirit, where the only blood

is my stigmata, my passion

a wild free animal

with wings of eagles

cradled in His hands, rising

above the buildings of Kew Gardens

the skyscrapers of Manhattan

beyond the sun where

I no longer cry, but sing

a song of a warrior

and Winston Mosley now crushed,

a serpent at our Mother Mary’s feet.

Our feet,

for we are one body in Christ.

I am the head!