Gravity Offended

Dear Americans,

The sun rises in the east

as Black and brown communities

are forced to finger paint with the blood

of their children the red lines on the flag

of a nation that takes no note of them

and expects them to continue on,

stepping over injustice,

business as usual because

the world stops for no one.

The blood of White children drips and things have suddenly shifted.

The sun rises in the west and Everyone must take note.

The tides pull backwards, dragging the moon limply behind them

and Everyone must take note.

Gravity is upended and the cows rise in the air with udders flailing,

passed by a picnic table with neat checkered cloth,

the pristine fence posts launching haphazardly into the air one by one,

and the elderly woman chasing her television which has just passed into orbit,

projecting for all to hear in the soundless void of space:

How adult White rapists are only sweet boys poking fun;

How Black children are young adults who should know better;

How time can always be made to air the stories of kidnapped

sweet, innocent White angels;

How White people want America to be White Again;

and how White babies are getting murdered by Black giants

who swallow them whole with their feet first.

And shouldn’t we just take note how

White people apparently have this amazing power to

stop the world to mourn their grown and children,

their grief displayed on every network and screen

floating on by when

meanwhile.

the Black and brown bodies are stuck back down

on gravity-less apocalyptic land,

weighed down by centuries and centuries

of devastation and their children’s corpses

which for all the world cares about them

might as well have been cotton underneath their feet.

Take note.

Your Silence Will Not Protect You,

Just Another Angry Brown Girl