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.
Justice was served sweet and sour in pepper spray soup—tear- gas gumbo—tears mixed with milk and milk of magnesia in crimson curry sauce; Served from warfare states’ woks on
After the guilty verdict, the clarity that was collectively growing became squandered with the words “it’s not justice, it’s accountability.”
It is vitally necessary to bridge the gap in knowledge and dismantle US misinformation campaigns against Cuba’s realities for international English-speaking audiences.
American policing is defended as good despite its unmatched amounts of lethal violence.
Richard Wright’s 1942 novel was testing the limits of what the white novel-reading public would have found imaginable.
