Brawl

I only intuit what the phone can’t catch:
the insults of this white man, strutting
and puffed, parboiled before the Black
captain whose arms windmill at a slip
a single pontoon might slide into if only
he’d look. It’s easy to solve this problem
the white boater’s turned
to a crisis of history: his pontoon
illegally parked, the waiting riverboat
packed with Black passengers
who can’t disembark. Their shouts grow,
more by the minute, outraged on behalf
of the captain; they raise up phones
like batons to capture the conflict’s
every nuance. Comments flood my screen
with seething, cartoon faces at this toss
of a ball cap from the captain’s head
once he’s been shoved. Now
the captain plants his feet, the slap
of the white man’s outrage stunning him
to fury. Rage, then fear, overtakes my screen
as the boater’s white brothers suddenly
swarm the captain. A scuffle, a scream,
and now isn’t it glee that explodes as four
young Black men march down the dock?