How could KKKanada not be racist?
it has the same father as AmeriKKKa
these siblings lie next to each other
rooted in imperialism and land theft
. . .
Poem
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. . . .
Up Above My Head
a struggle against settler colonial dispossession is a struggle against u.s. military aid budgets is a struggle against borders bred in blood . . .
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. . . .
There’s Fires to Start
private property did a number on our humanity
capitalism fashioned platforms out of protest posters
podiums don’t belong next to gasoline canisters . . .
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 . . .
a poem in which we shoot back
i love my people. i protect and serve my people. i’ll die to neutralize any threat to my people. . . .
“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 . . .