Club None Long To Belong To…*
No proof of residency, utility bills, bank
or vaccination records or two pieces of ID
Needed.
No bios, resumes, CVs, credit scores, or
References required.
No decoder rings/secret handshakes used.
No gifts given to joiners. No monthly news
letters.
No Mickey Mouse Club; Book Club; Buyers
Club or Nightclub.
Lifetime Membership Club: struggling to stay
exclusive—Fighting to keep others out…
Members instantly earn seasoned ears; helping
hands; broad shoulders; steadfast instruction in
Hugging.
Members learn when to call. What to say. When
to say it. When to feed/text/tweet—And when to
Shut the fuck up…
Monthly membership dues include sleepless
nights; ulcers; cancer; stroke; heart attack;
depression; divorce; anger and isolation.
Smells, songs, snacks, words re-stimulate
salinity, helping trace bitter tracks of members’
Tears…as they cry themselves to sleep nightly…
Members remember ‘The Call’ admitting them
to The Club as though nano seconds ago…
remember robotic motions/silent shrieks…
Birthdays/death dates still stir tsunamis of tears…
Death certificates double as membership cards bearing
“Justifiable Homicide” hashtags sanctioned by the
state
Members remember sweetness, savoriness of eats. Re
member fuzziness—foggy flashbacks—chuckles and
belly laughs…
Members remember surreality/shock and awe;
remember distrusting ears—
demanding— “Stop joking!!!” “Stop playing around!!!!”
Members remember automated voices—cold calls of
Strange Fruit messengers—remember ‘grapevine’ voices
and
poison penned/murder mouthed Fox-box foot soldiers digging
dirt—covering up crimes of testi-lying triggermen…
Members Remember…
pithy politicians’ semiautomatic… “…thoughts and prayers…”
Members remember fiery pulpits falling silent. Remember
teddy bears, liquor bottles, candles, hand-lettered signs, T
shirt likenesses and “say their names” strangers
going poof. Members remember Mr. Pain, Ms. Emptiness, Mr. McGrief
and No Getting Over It Crew…hanging out as house guests: Overseeing
State machine accountants and lawyers determining how much, if any,
Black Lives Matter…
*Inspired by groups of grieving parents witnessing for the world…
P.O.E.T. are the only letters behind my name— So you scowl; scold; spank my hands with rulers and switches worn smooth from serial beatdowns, dare I use the F-word…
Oprah gushes that this book by the latest darling of the ruling classes might “save us,” but all it’s really trying to save is capitalism.
The docu-series reveals not only the ongoing predation against the Black community, but that policing is about social control, not crime control.
This week climate change, US foreign policy, and Mexico’s new government were on your minds.
This book locates the struggles, wins and losses of young Black lives in a structural, institutional and historical context.
