An African holds a sign that says "Black Lives Matter"

The Politician

The Politician is our organizer, activist, and freedom fighter. She is our mother, daughter, sibling, and compatriot. She walks behind, beside, and in front of us. She sets the pace and brings up the rear. She claims to be a servant, but we know her as much more than a servant of the people. She is our light in the dark. She illuminates the path we follow. . . .

Author Darius Simpson - you know that nigga was a nigga

You Know He Shot at the Police Right?

you know he was a weapon. didn’t beg for his life. or call for his mother. or his partner.
you know that nigga went out on his feet. brought a gun to a gun fight. brought mutiny to a slave ship at the atlantic shoreline. you know that nigga was a nigga and not like haha nigga not like next democratic presidential nominee nigga not like run fast jump high nigga like worm food covered in tree bark like lead water clogging an artery like dead leaves stuck in a gutter like storm the arsenal and shoot the masters like one of those give me liberty or give me blood types nigga got the nerve to want freedom and do somethin bout it. . . .

Mushroom cloud at the end of the world.

The End of the Fucking World

the end of the fucking world came again in May that year,
nine minutes and twenty nine seconds
stretched to hours, broke to days, forced into months.
and it sounded the same way the end of the world always sounds . . .

“The First Black”

by Too Black “The First Black” the Clayface of the Black race — shape-shifted to fit the state’s mission Muddying the waters of slaughter  A farcical marvel; built by white guilt Sculpted and welded to quell a rebellion  “The First Black”  is almost always the safe Black Raised as a docile rotwild Taught to bark down at its own breed, but rarely seems to bite  the white hand that feeds “The First Black” the single needle  conveniently placed  within the colonized haystack Handpicked —  personified as the proverbial reminder, “Hey, maybe now the evil empire might have a soul???” Or . . .