by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner
War addicts crawl ‘round Capitalist Hill
on hands and knees…
Pipe Dreams…
by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner
“Bitch, gimme a hit—
I need a hit, bitch!”
Tourettes targeted, punctuating
“Boots on the ground,” “red line
Crossed,” belligerent babbling like
A crescendo passage from the pit
Orchestra below… This world stage,
Where war addicts crawl ‘round
Capitalist Hill on hands and knees,
High beams on, frantically searching
For kibbles and bits–tiny particles of
Pretext— to put in their pipes and
Smoke to get that high again awaiting
The next domino’s fall in their pipe
Dream, The New Amerikkkan Century…
Raymond Nat Turner can be contacted at upsurgejazz.com.
Raymond Nat Turner © 2013 All Rights Reserved
Corporate media require American identity politics which contradict African authenticity.
Palestinians have the right to defend themselves under international law and they exercised it in the town of Tell on the West Bank.
The House voted to permanently merge the U.S. and Israeli militaries. Israel has some control over the U.S. war machine, and Washington locks in a forward base in West Asia.
From the United States to the Dominican Republic to the Bahamas, the violence, collective scapegoating, and mass deportation of Haitians lay bare a particular kind of anti-Blackness. Anti-Haitianism…
Baba Akili and Thandiwe Abdullah returned from Havana with an eyewitness account of empty streets, failing hospitals and a people enduring the latest chapter of a long U.S. campaign against Caribbean…
