There’s a demagogue running for president!
There’s a former Ku Klux Klan member running for Senate!
Klan? What do these senile, sadists know about Clanism?
About camaraderie, community, and compassion
Riveting stories around the fire, rites of passage, pueblos
Your neighbors party that the whole block is invited to
No, not your company’s annual continental breakfast
Or your sister’s husband’s tennis partner’s niece’s cotillion
Where are you from?
Who’s sorry womb relinquishes your existence?
And former? An ideal like that?
This rhetoric is the byproduct of unearthed wound
That has been festering for centuries
In this new found land and all the ones before it
Of human greed and natural darkness
That seeps into the mere mortal’s mind
And most still walk around like tombs
There is no justification for the violation of
For white nazi supremacy
For the submissive nature
In the people of colour
You tyrants lust for
Aztec blood pulsates through my body
This consciousness is home to earth’s first realizations
Your ancestors have disowned you
You are in the earthly void when your
only claim is hate
Does my brown skin make you anxious?
The thing with you,
Is that you associate my people with the primitive
Because we don’t care for cosmopolitan excess
Because our success doesn’t manifest into your
Cubicled idea of existence
There is a love so rich that resides in my motherland bred people
My bruised and bled, back bent atlas of a people
In two decades of existence
My body has always been synonymous to the inferior
My mind embraced by shackles placed
as soon as the first human claimed dominion over their brother
It seems we haven’t learned since
I grew up guilt ridden and tired
Most times I forget that I can explain this guilt, if I date it back in time enough
and that it does not belong to me
But it lives in your present day media, America
You never did give up that eurocentric fetish did you?
It lives in your educational institutions America
How you breed your faux progressives at coastal schools of thought
How you coddle your precipice millennials in your brand name religiously established schools
I spit on your soil
But then I go to Europe and that place is a fuckng circus
They’re running out of arable soil, naturally
And our third world?
I heard in Thailand you still have to assert your superiority to the monkeys
Or they’ll kill you in your sleep
I also heard little asian girls and boys are abducted in their sleep to be part of the–
Ohhh you guessed it America
Your little side project in Vietnam, Korea, Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia
Your soldiers, multinational corporations, and diplomat’s
There is so much to revise, to create
I fear the anticlimaticacy of my species
I feel I have developed a comprehension and responsibility
To make the complacent uncomfortable
To take little cherubs under my wing
And unclothe the God that is their essence
Above this noise
This horrible noise
This dangerous noise that wants to build walls
Though people always tear them down
This dangerous noise that has a face
But it isn’t the one we see on TV
Or in the paper
It’s the one in the back of your head
In all of our heads
That’s caused holocausts, genocides, the guillotine
That ambushes humble villages with tanks
And, to be anticlimactic myself, and perhaps have given my contemporaries
no possible reassurance or silver lined solution.
I just wish to be alive when this whole place rebirths in Anarchy.