The Campaign
(written in four parts – Part 2 of 4)
The thing about three-card molly is
while you’re looking at the cards
trying to pick the Ace of Spades
you fail to see the person picking your pocket.
Such is the lasik proof forced near-sightedness
of the masses of Afrikans in America
watching pontificating focusing hoping
on Obama -- for us?
Stuck in a frosted fruit loop of sweet delusion
instead of noticing not a single scintilla
to support any belief that white America has changed.
Assimilationist ejaculate on microphones and T.V. screens
even practicing cultural surrender through fios
to bathe in hopes
of virtual President dreams.
Meanwhile white America’s collective nature
and interests remain unchanged.
Power relationships the same
an intact status quo
sovereignty for us -- not even hoped for.
Replaced with an unquestioned premise that
being United Stated President is or will be a good thing
like time spent at 3-card molly trying to achieve perceived winnings.
By Kemit Mawakana (aka The Seven-Foot Poet)
Peace (when appropriate) War (when necessary)
Copyright 2008.
“We knowed what was goin’ on in [the war] all the time,” said Felix Haywood, dismissing the notion that his fellow Texas slaves were ignorant of the Emancipation Proclamation.
It seems inevitable our own holiday will be sold back to us by the same corporations that profit from exploiting black lives.
Under Nicaraguan law, it is a crime to seek foreign interference in the country's internal affairs.
How should we respond when people of color who've spent a lifetime cussing the empire start curtseying to it instead?
“Police can call you a gang member because they observed you with other gang members, who they declared gang members because they were with other gang members.”
