president courts black votes…

the brown bag prophet
had just
finished
seeing
a new political ad
when
i ran into him
outside
my favorite
coffee shop
he said
now ain’t this a bitch
the orange glow president
is touting
his
accomplishments
for
the black community
this
is
the same man
who sent
his
abominable albino hounds
of
hell
to confront
peaceful demonstrators
over
government
sanctioned
murders
of
black brothers and sisters
around
this nation
and
now
that
he needs our votes
he’s
suddenly
our best friend
offering
cash for votes
and
a new federal holiday
celebrating a day
that
he
was going
to
memorialize
whiteness
in
tulsa
until
the virus
came along
and
ain’t this the same man
who removed
mailboxes
from
our neighborhoods
so
we
couldn’t vote
and
sent goon squads
when
we
held up
demonstration signs
and
showed up to vote
hell
i’m pretty certain
he’s gonna claim
to be
a relative
of
kunta kinte
as
soon
as
he
gets
his white sheet off

abstruse omissions…

i am
the empty space
between
enslavement
and
freedom
the chasms
between
what
was
promised
and
what came
to
pass
foolish dreams
from
an ignored
lover
of
freedom
who sees
nothing more
than
redefined moments
of
forgotten stories
of
the true founders
of
this nation
hidden
between
the printed lines
of
history books
written
in
the invisible blood
of
those enslaved
whose
undiscovered
mass graves
are concealed
by
the blank spaces
between
the lines
of
lies
your eyes
should tread
carefully
through
those spaces
so
as not
to
disturb
the
dead
for
seeing
what lies
beneath
the surface
of
this nation’s myths
could
make you
shed
tears
of
shame

 

herd immunity…

group resistant to
the rule of law and justice
because of their badge

 

autumn patriots…

roadside
improvised
explosive
political devices
nothing more
than
home-made mercenaries
pretending

to
believe
in freedom
but
failing to understands
its
most basic principles
shedding
their white sheets
in order
to
change
their attire
into
that
of
those
they disgrace
true patriots
who died
for
freedom
those
the president
called
suckers
and
fools
whose
sacred ground
of
liberty
swine
now stand on
holding
weapons of war
like
ss goon squads
set on
purifying
the nation
a nation
to
which
they
have no true
alliance
rather

an alliance
to
ignorance
and
hate

 

 

all the president’s junkyard dogs …

they appear lifelike
but have no humanity
they are just castings
hollow men who resonate
whatever you want to hear

 

scientific investigations…

the old fan
painted the body
with cool air
in
broad strokes
from
head to toe
as
rivulets
arising
from
the sleepless child
meandered
their way
downward
to
the bed sheets
attempting
to reach
the sea
though
this point
was
a mere
hypothesis
that
the child
had developed
after watching
a classroom video
it was one
of
many
theories
developed
from
similar scientific
presentations
the one
on
pollination
for example
made
it necessary
to
never use
the same
q tip
between
the two ears
for
fear of
the resulting consequences
one can never be too careful
the child thought
further
since energy
cannot be created
or
destroyed
and
humans were
in fact
containers
of
energy
it followed
that
ghosts
were real
though evidence
for
that theory
was based more on
stories
presented
by
his uncles
and
neighborhood friends
during
night exploration trips
and
usually
as
the campfire
became
no more than
ashes
however
it was
a logical conclusion
given
classroom lectures
and
the reliable testimony
of
family and friends
now
i’m certain
that
this child’s hypotheses
may bring a smirk
to your face
but
what do you
believe
that is
no more than hearsay
about
the world
and
the people
in
it

 

arson…

blazes
intentionally set
to
deprive
others
of
what they have
paid
for
with
sacrifices
of
blood
and
flesh
the hard labors
of
a lifetime
turned
into
smoldering
remnants
of
freedom
and
charred dreams
of
a better nation
a nation
which
could evolve
into
it’s
own
myth
were it
not
for
political arsonists
setting fires
and
then
offering
to put them out
for
the mere price
of
your soul
a so called
deal
of
the century

 

vigilantes…

put him in blackface
then listen to his venom
now what do you think
should those who match his color
follow what he recommends

 

singing a tired refrain again…

the city’s
opened up some
so
streets
have begun
to
be re-inhabited
by
dreamers
and
shadow people
when
i saw
the brown bag prophet
he seemed
none the worst
for
the wear
when
i asked
about
his being
he replied
nothing
has changed
myths of freedom
still
circulate
among
the masses
who’ve
ignored
the history
of
america
they continue
to
sing refrains
sung
since enslavement
one more river to cross
or
to let my people go
as if
one more compromise
or
prayer
will
make
a difference
son
the one thing
i’ve learned
in
this life
is
enslavement
never ended
nor
was
it intended
to
end
subjugation
of
people of color
has been
and
continues
to be
codified
in the actions
and
laws
of
the nation
but
we keep singing
freedom songs
as if
the words
are
some magical incantation
but
child
my father’s
father
sang
those songs
so
i know the words
well
as well as
what
will come
from
them

 

still picking cotton…

fingers
raw
blood dyes
the
whiteness
bags
of
enslavement
fill
the coffers
of
society’s sloths
land owners
and
corporate moguls
who’ve
never
lifted
anything
but
a whip
or
martini glass
and
unable to
carry
even the lightest
yoke
of
labor
they claim
they’ve worked
hard
for
their wealth
but
it is
our blood
staining
every fiber
they’ve done nothing
but
enslave
they
own
nothing
nothing
just
a myth
which
they repeat
as
their mantra
leaving
us
to
pick
the world’s
cotton