Once upon a time wagons
circled ‘round The Juice and
bassackwards Thom-ass
Clarence. Today, I see
semi-circled wagons and
hear tears in voices and
explanations that don’t
Explain… I feel like saying,
Lady Day like, “Hush, now…”
You see, once upon a time
ketchup was a Vegetable;
contras Freedom Fighters;
Vietnam noble;
Bottled water a
Crime of status as
Alphabet agencies
flooded the ‘hood with
white powder, prison
culture/murder music—
The Reagan ‘80s
when Jel-
Low
Puddin’
Man
trickled
down
Jel-
Low
Puddin’
Man
trickled
down
on a landscape littered with blood,
bodies, caged men and women—their
Heroic Black Liberation Movement/War
Exhausted…
Jel-
Low
Puddin’
Man
trickled
down
piling
sugary
skyscrapers
of Huxtabullshit
on the black bourgeoisie’s
Taste for franchises, sub-
contracts, soft leather
seats in boardrooms—
On alley Black backs…
Jel-
Low
Puddin’
Man
trickled
down
and
Teddy told me—and I’m
paraphrasing— “I think
you betta let it go… if it
Looks like another Booker TKO!”
© 2018. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved
“Black freedom” as a claim, as a possibility, challenges us to imagine and to produce new modes of life.
That all this time later we are still learning new information about Hampton’s killing is testament to the sheer volume of the effort aimed at this young revolutionary.
Well-meaning whites think its quite alright to steal Black activists’ words – as long as their intentions are good, which is up to them to decide.
The CRC never defined identity politics as exclusionary or intended to mean that only those who experience a certain oppression can fight to end it.
South Africa is leading the way into the horror of policing for profit.
