what if tomorrow

give us a sec

we need to sit (-in) with this a minute

sit with(in) this a minute

need a second to catch ourbreath

grieve properly, gather

look a slow massacre

in its eyes


tomorrow we’ll call in sick.

all us black folk not coming in,

rob of our toil every workplace

in every town and city.

black will divest from america,

snatch back all our black

take it, run

and negotiate the terms of our return

at a later date.


this is why you can’t have nice things:

ecause you shoot and kill them,

because you rob and rape them

because you enslave them

minimum wage them,

but what if tomorrow

we simply stayed in,

left some hotdogs thawing in the sink

so america can make dinner for its own damn self,

took ourselves away,

tended to only us,

us families, us cloistered

us a collective black chrysalis


or what if tomorrow

we took again the street

all us, all at once

in every town and every city

flooded america like we were Katrina

shook a nation by her shoulders and

invoked all our gods

sang all our songs

beat all our drums

bodied all our dance

and marched—arms linked like chainmail—every street

all damn day

and bought only black

interrupted all the brunch

blocked every highway

jail broke every pot-selling petty thief

and wrote over all the textbooks in big black sharpie

what if we threw down the black card like it was benjamins,

like it was reparations.

what if we were so black all over the place all at once and not sorry.

((world only still turning cuz we benevolent gods))

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