Port Chicago, California
You’d hardly know
spit was here would you?
This place, this port
stationed along the road
Off the 680, I think it’s the 4
—That’s where the memorial park is.
We think of battles
and bombs in WW2,
Not of accidents.
We don’t think of black
Soldiers in the segregated
navy stocking the
war machine
with tragic results.
They loaded the ships with
bomb boxes—the explosion was seen
for miles. The force
broke windows in Frisco –
We don’t think of these things,
unless “we” aren’t white.
And then perhaps we know
some of this story.
But even then
perhaps not –
these things being forgotten
Easily.
But we being primarily
positioned in privilege
Barrel up this road to
procure fine wines in Napa—
we did not know that
Port Chicago was here
til now. We did
not suspect:
That the worst accident of the war
happened here
That some soldiers
who survived the explosions
were sent to perform identical duties –
without training.
That they refused to embark on
further labor of this kind,
That they were court-martialed
Jailed. Thorough Good
Marshall argued the case,
and got the men out of jail
but the court martial stood.
As we cruise up
to taste chardonnay,
merlots, and syrahs
Past this park, now a memorial,
at last a remembering place,
where 320 men died,
I think we ought to
Stop
Don’t you?