Poets Respond to the Uvalde Tragedy, Part 10
La Citadelle
By Suzanne Morris
(Its gray walls, now patched with orange lichen, are as thick as 16 feet and as high as 147 feet. More than 160 cannons point threateningly from its openings and ledges…*)
As our nation absorbs the shock of
the latest school shooting
In Uvalde, Texas,
legislators have conceded that
any new laws to
ensure the safety of our
schoolchildren into the future
must not infringe upon the
sacred right to bear arms
or raise the hackles of
the gun lobby
even if it means turning our schools
into armed fortresses.
And I think of the 19th century relic of
Haiti’s defense against the
threat of French warships
standing high on a mountaintop
like a raised fist
in a halo of vaporous clouds
with pyramids
of cannonballs
still stockpiled
at its base.
To obtain a
model for construction
a delegation could
travel to Haiti
and parade through
impoverished streets in a
motorcade of black
limousines
bedecked with American flags.
Aides would calculate
how to translate the labors of 20,000
former slaves over a period of 14 years
into modern-day blueprints for
constructing these school buildings
(eventually to be
known as citadels)
on a smaller scale
all over the United States.
Like the famous symbol
of Haitian independence
our citadels would be designed
with angles in the walls
to deflect gun shots.
Teachers would take turns
serving as armed guards on the roof.
With indoor
storage capacity
for a year’s worth of
food and water,
our children could safely
reside behind the towering walls
for as long as one entire
school year.
*from The Ransom, a history of
indebtedness forced on Haiti as the price for its
freedom from enslavement. New York Times,
special section on May 22nd, 2022