Now it’s goose stepping white supremacists instead of a rock n rollin’ bitch for you. Now it’s a knife in the back instead of a ray gun to the head. Now it’s a racist ass making America “great again” instead of your space face close to mine. Treason and a lack of reason instead of laying the real thing on me, baby. Now it’s typo-ridden Twitter bullies trolling the internet instead of spending time in the church of man, such a holy place to be. Now it’s every moment feeling more and more like a blackhole nightmare. Oh for those times when we could freak out in a moonage daydream.
No need for 3D glasses when the wolves are at your door. When Twitter bots infect people with political dementia—all those lies and subterfuge making it harder and harder to remember what the truth looks like anymore. No need for 3D glasses when Mother Liberty can’t even recognize herself in the mirror. Bound, gagged, assuming all immigrants guilty upon entering her newly renovated Hellis Island. No need for 3D glasses when still another innocent black boy is killed by the police, when racial profiling is more prominent than Facebook profiles. Those wolves at your door aren’t leaving anytime soon. Hear them howl. And I ain’t talking that famous book of poetry.
It starts with that one voice refusing to remain quiet. One serving as an obstruction to compassion’s deconstruction. One that’s a brass-knuckled fist in the face of malevolence. One shredding the hollow dark into ribbons of incandescent everything. It starts with that one voice and leads to many. Voices crying out all this pain and injustice is not a way to live. Voices that are X’s marking the spot where promises refuse to break. Voices echoing the North Star and the safest way home.
Upon reviewing the autopsy of democracy, will you mention that it died a slow protracted death? Will you reveal that its stomach was riddled with lies, its intestines marred with embezzlement, its esophagus savaged with the cancer of cruelty? Will you overlook the fact that its body committed many racist acts but was continually found innocent by a jury of its peers? Upon reviewing the autopsy of democracy, ask yourself if the body somewhat resembles a black body swinging from a tree. Ask yourself if the savage noose marks around its neck will preclude it from having an open casket ceremony.