by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
Our poet shares a scene from a late nite NYC subway ride home from this years' holiday party of the National Writers Union.
Oh, what a night…
by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
“Oh, what a night…”
Red letters emblazoning big white cake
“Workers of the WORD, Unite!”
150 small, cloth flags hanging
from the ceiling, above our food,
Representing places, spaces
Working-class brothers and sisters gather
Breaking bread, sipping wine, gulping water…
Making memories, visualizing peace—better lives—
Not children’s, grandchildren’s broken, bloody bodies…
“Oh, what a night…”
Our NWU holiday party
Wild women of the WORD—
Friendships of fifty years
Talking “class struggle”, “socialism”
A woman, UAW leader, pops in
Announcing victory:
Research and Teaching Assistants
Won unionization at Columbia!
“Oh, what a night…”
Six bottles of sparking cider lighter,
On the A Train, heading
Home to Harlem in a hurry
Brothers behind me loud talkin’—
Not dissin’ or arguing—more like preachin’
To the choir
Brother One’s shouting ‘bout Cuba’s
schools and literacy compared to here.
Brother Two’s chimin’ in ‘bout the Bay of Pigs,
Allen Dulles, killing of Kennedy— just before
Brother Three jumps to billionaire appointees
Only in New York!
“Oh, what a night…”
Never mind three delays
between 34th and 125th
Couldn’t take it any longer—
Got up, got some of that WORD:
“Is this ‘The Friendship Train’
Listen to us—woop-woop—…doin’ our thing?
Y’all scaring me and folks up front with
that revolutionary foolishness!”
Smiling eyes, belly laugh betrayed me—but
Crescendo “Oooh!” response to my call:
“Hell, folks been asleep 8 years!”
Plus, pregnant pause, birthed this poem
Granting you permission to: pimp-slap, kick
fear-mongers to the curb; they squander
Seeds of struggle, rays of resistance… Listen to
Lil’ David’s lesson: Goliath’s gotta bring ass to kick ass…
Poet’s Note:
NWU is National Writers Union
UAW is United Auto Workers
Raymond Nat Turner © 2016 All Rights Reserved
“Papi, are we there— are we almost there?” Wide-eyed incantation of a child, three feet plus/ 60 pounds. Exodus leaving the lowland six days before birthday 7…
This week readers continued to engage with the role of Kwanzaa, responded to arguments about race and class in the criminal justice system, and the possibilities of political party boycotts.
US troops have been dispatched to the Democratic Republic of Congo, where the results of presidential balloting are still unknown.
At the midway point of the Trump presidency the Democrats have nothing to show in the way of meaningful resistance.
The US war machine can no longer provide its corporate masters the neo-colonial stability they need to reap long-term gain from the imperial order.
