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
The Black-murder-by-cop next door to Minneapolis shows the world the dehumanization that is built into the white supremacist DNA of settler-colonialism will continue to produce crimes against our c
Like Christ on the third day, detainees in St. Louis jails have risen to challenge state oppression.
This week the war in Afghanistan was on your minds.
The Black future is already unfolding under your feet, and the narrow possibility that you might grab ahold of that leading edge of the asphalt and turn it in a different direction.
The assumption is these women are uneducated or without skills beyond cleaning or caring for children and adults.
