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.
The Black-murder-by-cop next door to Minneapolis shows the world the dehumanization that is built into the white supremacist DNA of settler-colonialism will continue to produce crimes against our c
Like Christ on the third day, detainees in St. Louis jails have risen to challenge state oppression.
This week the war in Afghanistan was on your minds.
The Black future is already unfolding under your feet, and the narrow possibility that you might grab ahold of that leading edge of the asphalt and turn it in a different direction.
The assumption is these women are uneducated or without skills beyond cleaning or caring for children and adults.
