Interrogating the Wrong Witness

By Melody Wilson

                        I realize                       I’m breathing, 

that it’s possible          I haven’t been.

I listen as the medic    labors              over words, 

definitions.                              The Chyron scrolls 

“resuccitate”

“resuscitate.”

Yesterday it was video.                      Not      nine     minutes

                        hour                 after                 hour. 

The flat    affect          of the officer               (former officer) 

hand pocketed,            mute as a                     

billboard.

The lawyer says Asystole,                  (the long vowel). 

I wonder how long a heart      can      beat.                The medic says 

the rig was parked                  had to wait.

The lawyer asks about shock paddles.

It isn’t protocol                                   (measured words) 

in         Assistolee, 

the Chyron                              scrolls                          protocall.

The defendant rests                 his hand           in pocket.

Bystanders beg.          I watch            the bystanders             

beg.

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Melody Wilson teaches community college in Portland, Oregon, where she tracked the Derek Chauvin trial daily before leading her Zoom classes full of students whose voices were still scratchy from tear gas. Recent work appears in Quartet, Briar Cliff Review, The Shore, and SWWIM. Upcoming work will be in Tar River Poetry, Whale Road Review, and Cleaver.