by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
BAR's poet in residence considers the deaths of black women, allegedly suicides in the US Army and in police custody.
I believe in the machine of state
by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nathaniel Turner
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
sitting in that cell, after her processing and
paper-work were completed and after all the
interviewing sheâd done, getting a dream job
at her alma mater, Prairie View A&M University,
surely she said, âLord, I am so not worthy of
all this good fortune, this job, this work, so un-
deserving of this life of service, worth living, I
want out of this olâ worldâthe runner-up is more
qualified, dedicated to doing your work and a better
fit for the job, besides that, I could make more on
welfareâand, I was wrong, Black Lives donât matter,
please forgive me for becoming uppity and, momentarily,
forgetting my placeâŚâ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ<br/> I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
she intoned like a Baptist preacher sermonizing on Sunday,
in that cell, âI brought shame on myself, my profession, my
family, community and the Black Lives Matter movement by
questioning authority of a loyal public servant who only wanted
to help me stop smoking! Gawd, he was your messenger delivering
a public service announcement big tobacco didnât want me to hear:
cigarettes kill over 50,000 Americans annually, and Gawd, I know
that youâd rather see him light me up, than see me light upâ
now, I understand thatâs why he made his U-turn, and stopped me
in the first placeâŚâ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
she confessed like a Catholic confessing to her priest, in
that cell, âMaking a lane change and not signaling is a
Capital offense in the Lone Star state
of mind Iâm in, not being able to repay my family $500.00
for bail on the paltry salary of my new job, father, this voids
my will to live, cancels me out
like a check stamped âinsufficient fundsâ
father, thereâs no open window in this white site
high enough for me to leap from like South African
anti-apartheid freedom fighters, and no gun for two cool
suicide shots to my brain, like Gary Webb, or a handcuffed
Harry Houdini headshot, like Chavis Carter in the backseat
of an Arkansas police cruiser, or slick suicide moves of 19-yr-
old Pvt 1st class La Vena Johnson in Iraq, suicidal enough, the
army swears, to pour acid in her anus and vagina after shooting
herself; please, father, guide me on how to get it done my way!â
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
she moaned like an olâ Black Blues singer down on
her luck, âIâll just have to make do with dis big olâ black
garbage bag, shoâ hope de Black Lives Matter movement
see de symbol and quit all dey nappy-headed foolishness,
Black Lives Matterâall lives matterâjusâ lissen to silence
ob black faces in high places, lak de con- stitutional lawyer
who donâ believe in lookinâ back, goinâ forward wit de work
ob âenhanced interrogationâ and targeted killinâ he so gud atâŚâ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
I believe, yes, I believeâŚ
Sistar Sandyâs âsuicideâ like I believe bullies
hopped up on Vitamin S, and PTSD from
killing in Afghanistan and Iraq, monsters
with monikers like, Frank âChokerâ Vasquez,
Jude âThe Foot Doctorâ Siapano, âGlovesâ Davis,
âClubberâ Williams and âChokeholdâ Johnson help
kind old ladies cross streets. Just like I believe they
rescue cats from treesâand NOT âprotect and serveâ
everything done in service of brutal capitalist exploitationâŚ
Long Live The Fighting Spirit of Sandra Bland!
Raymond Nat Turner Š 2015 All Rights Reserved
believe, yes, I believeâŚ
Just like we glorified the black leather jackets, black berets, and guns in the 60s, we still romanticize African people with guns and mouths that fire more inaccurately than the guns they carry.
The martyred revolutionaryâs assassination has finally been acknowledged by the Guyana state, and his works will become part of the educational curriculum.
To break cyclical, systemic oppression requires a functionality that rejects reified notions of governance, global capitalism, and accommodation.
Jazzman William Parkerâs work is a bold art of resistance to capitalism, colonialism, racism, and the runaway train that is our present-day America.
Ruth Macleanâs article, like countless others in Western media, took place in an Africa without leaders, without public health officials or activists.
