by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
in which the poet muses upon the landscapeve in which urban pioneers thrive
Oink
by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
I saw Satan high on Seconal—‘Red
Devils’—zap an app for zombie-settlers.
Then they came by covered wagon,
stagecoach, horseback—bathed, and
reinvented themselves as programmers,
humans, condo-owners.
I saw rent refugees morph into miserable
Monsters—vapid vampires sucking soul,
air and chocolate out Tha Town. I saw them
turn into werewolves on Lakeshore, pushing
porcelain babies in thousand dollar strollers;
stressed-out Yogis practicing purse-clutching,
street-crossing, stink-eye Spiritualism on children
and grand-children of seventy-year residents.
I saw Dadaists driving drunk the wrong way on
10K gold-paved streets, killing dance masters,
like policemen gunning down painters as a form
of critique
I saw the Best Burrito Shop, The5th Amendment,
and Africa By The Bay run off The Ave; their places
Taken by caffeine shooting galleries and Boer beer
bars for rent refugees trekkking 13 miles, bringing
Butte with them.
I saw nextdoor.com Nazi-NSA impersonators circle
laager between OPD cruisers and string yellow tape
around drumming, dancing, BBQing, singing Gospel
and other verbs modified by the phrase: “…while Black”
Raymond Nat Turner © 2015 All Rights Reserved
Reject “Thanks-Taking,” Join in National Day of Mourning
Endangering species— First Negroz and wild Karens in power—members of the Strong- arm Williams-Thom-ass Clarence-led Bassackwards Tribe; Riding mostly 2/4
Jackson’s supposedly “radical” Black mayor wants to make surveillance great again in Mississippi.
By the end of the 90s corporate journalists were feverishly dehumanizing young blacks in news stories, editorials and commentaries.
This week the lives of the incarcerated, Susan Rice’s bid to be Secretary of State, and the incoming administrators of the empire were on your minds.
