| Black Agenda Report

Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
Regime Change Coming Home?
08 May 2019
Limbo! How low can we go— Barr is set so low in its swamp draining elephantine donkey dung; We straddle razor blades between reich/revolution:
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
for Ayat
17 Apr 2019
Hey Ayat, we were an odd couple, haunting the library for magical books, deciding how and where we wanted to work… Our symbiosis Your linguistic ticket to
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
…solidarity sounds like…
10 Apr 2019
I’m a Seoul Man, da-da-da—dat-da-da-da I’m a Seoul Man, da-da-da—dat-da-da-da I’m also a Pyongyang, Managua, Manilla, Teheran Man, too—As opposed to despot
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
Ms. Cortez Goes to Washington
04 Apr 2019
“Never be deceived that the rich will allow you to vote away their wealth.”—Lucy Parsons
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
not a great true believer....
27 Mar 2019
I’m Caffie’s son—raised to resist, taught to question… Erring on the side of thinking for Myself
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
toe tag trio: coup combo
20 Mar 2019
A right wing hawk flies humanitarian aid in…Then sits, hen-like,’til it hatches Bombs… and packs of hungry dogs ripping rotting
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
this year's coup
14 Mar 2019
Who knew him five days ago? Today, he’s Play Dough— President— in handlers oily hands… Brazen 1% switcheroo, another king nobody knew—
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
My Wise Country Cousin on de Dems dissin’ Kids
06 Mar 2019
Did you see de Kids questin Madum Di-Fi— catchin’ her befo’ she cud spin de big lie…? Lawd, de ‘tude an’ disdain she cudn’t cunseel
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
Dredging
27 Feb 2019
Rehabilitating men with birth defects: bomb bays where hearts should beat, weaponized eyes, mechanical mouths, teargas tongues, compassionless, cold-
Raymond Nat Turner , BAR poet-in-residence
My Wise Country Cousin on de Dems
20 Feb 2019
Whoa, son! Why de hell you axin’ me ‘bout de Dems— ‘Bout de Miss Nancys, Cap’n Stenys, an’ Unca Jims? Tolt you, dey ‘bout as crookit as dat dawg’s hine leg—