Shane McCrae

CARRIE KINSEY'S LETTER TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT

A colored man came said he would

Take care of him good

care and pay me five

Dollars a month his name is my

Brother he is about

fourteen years old his name is James

Robinson and the man who took him his

Name is Dan Cal

Five dollars for his labor his

Name is Dan Cal

I didn’t know

The man before but now I know him I has heard of him

From folks in town and elsewhere in the county in town     passing through

He sold my brother to a white man named McCree

They has been working him in prison for twelve month

And they won’t send him back to me

he has / No mother and no father Mr. President they are

both dead     / I am his only friend

My brother have not done

Nothing for them to have him in

Chains and I saw no money

I believe     / Dan Cal lives high on it

He does if anybody

gets paid for a colored man’s work

Mr. President but I will tell you I believe

Nobody does

us / Colored folks don’t     make money we make food
 

For other folks to eat

And air for other folks to breathe

Except us colored folks don’t

make those things we are those things / I mend a white man’s

coat I am his coat

With every stitch I stitch

my skin on tighter

By now my brother he’s a pile of rocks

I know they got him breaking rocks

With every rock

He breaks he breaks himself

and he is more himself

Like he was always meant to be

that pile of rocks

But I’m afraid I wouldn’t know him if I saw him now

I write for you to help me / Mr. President I know you must be

Busy if I’m a coat

I can’t imagine what you are

SHANE MCCRAE is the author of four collections of poetry, including The Animal Too Big To Kill (Persea Books, 2015) and Mule (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2010). He teaches at Oberlin College.