It won’t be a bullet

“it won’t be a bullet” juxtaposes two kinds of death: the kind the speaker postulates they will have, wasting away under medical care, and the kind that they say they will not experience from a bullet. Although the speaker does not specify it directly, it is possible they are describing a death from HIV/AIDs, which the author of the poem had just been diagnosed with at the time of writing this piece.

Throughout the poem, the speaker sets up a binary; there are those who die from a bullet, and there are those who die from something other than a bullet. The speaker is not only talking about their personal death but also about the ways in which people who look like them and who identify as part of the African American and Queer communities are likely to die. There are other ways that people die outside of this binary, but by drawing this stark contrast, the speaker emphasizes these options as being the two most expected ways and the two ways that primarily concern them.

Although the poem is about dying, which is a sad topic, Smith says “thank god” in Line 2. They express gratitude not for death itself, but for the fact that they will get the better of the two likely deaths. This commentary does two things; it expresses gratitude for their “better” death, but it also points to and laments the many deaths that other “black boy[s]” (Line 4) have suffered because of a bullet and the wider implications of this type of death. Smith declares that dying a slow death in which the body wastes away slowly is still preferable to dying from the brutality of a bullet. By dying a non-violent death (disease, though, can also be violent), the speaker posits that they “can go quietly” (Line 2). They will get an explanation about death, and they’ll be able to “practice” it (Line 3). This will make death less frightening and will help the speaker to prepare for the event.

The second stanza’s “catalogue of ways to kill a black boy” (Line 4) implies not only that there are many ways in which African American boys die, but also that there are people who intentionally kill them, want to kill them, and are looking for ideas about how to kill them. The speaker identifies their own death as not only singular, but part of a larger historical and political context of the many things that threaten African Americans, and specifically African American men. When they say, “find me / buried between the pages stuck together / with red stick” (Lines 4-6), the speaker is likely referencing the fact that they contracted HIV through sex. The “red stick” may reference lipstick, which people often associate with sex. The fact is “ironic” (Line 6) because a prevalent stereotype is that African American men will die from acts of violence, not acts of love. At the same time, the speaker’s insinuated cause of death is paradoxically “predictable” (Line 6) because of another prevalent stereotype: that gay men often die of HIV/AIDS. Smith is exploring dual identities and the beliefs that mainstream society holds about those identities. At the same time, the speaker demands to be treated as a person and not brushed over as a statistic. The speaker follows the terse, unfeeling, and judgmental lines about how “ironic” and “predictable” their cause of death is with the more direct command of “look at me” (Line 6): They demand the reader look past their preconceptions to see the individual.

The third stanza returns to this binary, suggesting that there is a “kind of black man who dies on the news” (Line 7). The fact that they will not die from a bullet is a way for the speaker to differentiate from one stereotype while identifying with another. They are the “kind of black man who grows thinner & thinner & thinner” (Line 8). This second kind of Black man still experiences a death that diminishes them, but their death still contains spiritual possibilities. They “become [light]” (Line 9). This is both a play on words, i.e., the speaker will lose so much weight that they become physically lighter, and a metaphor of spiritual light—a transcendence. The speaker suggests they will experience a miraculous transformation at the end of their lives.

At the same time, the poem acknowledges the value of their community. They note that “family” (Line 9) will be “gathered around [their] barely body” (Line 10). Unlike those who die from a bullet wound, often unpredictably, away from their families and those they love, those who die through non-violent means get to be with family when they exit the world.

In the last lines, the speaker makes use of a cliché to emphasize a point. Usually when people who have religious beliefs die, they or their loved ones say, “Go towards the light.” Light, again, usually references heaven. However, the speaker of this poem thwarts that expectation to say that their family members will tell them “to go / toward [themself]” (Lines 10-11). This calls back to the earlier line in which the speaker said that they and those like them will become light. To say now that they will go toward themself reemphasizes that they have become the light and the light has become them. This solidifies the notion that the speaker and members of their community are more than just their bodies and are in fact spiritual entities, transcending limitations as they expire.