Poetry of America
Poetry of America
Poetry of America is a rememory of what the pandemic became of us. Who we let it let us become.
In the taut tortured heights of a summer COVID-19 wave breaking across the United States and the world. George Floyd is murdered by the state. The whole world watches the slaughter from their ‘safe’ seats in COVID-19’s Quarantine Coliseum. A visceral tragic livestream of how black and brown bodies In America and elsewhere are over policed, in the street, in the house, and even on the football field. The ways race and racism animates who gets to do what to whom with or without consequence sparks a worldwide protest where publics everywhere brave increased exposure to a deadly virus to make their voices heard against the apathy and injustice endemic to institutional forms of oppression.
Meanwhile the COVID-19 zeitgeist lays bare the extent to which the perverse billionaire class are the arbiters of misinformation campaigns designed to amplify political fracture and dismantle any regulatory, moderation powers of the state.
The Poetry of America / nurse George Floyd’s
higher self into its freed ambition/
overwrites the dead text / the dissociated knee /
the acid reflux/ the incorrigible chorus
The baler crushed box / face down on the asphalt plot
on a too black street / Mama come to the wild bloom protest
Game time / hambone / hot wings podcast / popcorn /
police state / Tailgate / Jive Turkey / tweet tweet tweet
Elon musk and Thiel / Space X / Space junk/ banana peel
All the billionaires do / is scrape scrape and whittle
Whittle away at the indigenous clay
Coca Cola / halftime / clear bottle / old wine skin / they can’t help it /
they have to police even the touchdowns
This poem in its originating form, places Salvador Dali’s painting entitled The Poetry of America in conversation with Amiri Baraka’s revolutionary voice and seminal black radical poetics. We find ourselves somewhere among the outskirts of Dali’s time warping surrealism and the liminal ways Amiri Baraka’s work reprojects the American dream back onto itself for its own review. And sometimes Baraka’s own revolutionary aesthete gets chewed up when pressed against the queerness in his work and lived experience.
Referees cry foul in black & white uniforms, / are these outfits uniforms
or flashbacks? / Ain’t being born the point of being woke / or is we
all born again and biracial / at third and goal on Monday nights /
Who’s marking time at Washington Monument / We alway spelt
malcolm with an X / Amiri Baraka and LeRoi Jones belong
to this Norton Anthology/ Poems don’t die in America / and neither
do their secrets / letters go to the Smithsonian/ brains go
to science / we all die / from playing america’s favorite
pastime/ or simply from watching the game.
Poetry of America
Poetry of America is a rememory of what the pandemic became of us. Who we let it let us become.
In the taut tortured heights of a summer COVID-19 wave breaking across the United States and the world. George Floyd is murdered by the state. The whole world watches the slaughter from their ‘safe’ seats in COVID-19’s Quarantine Coliseum. A visceral tragic livestream of how black and brown bodies In America and elsewhere are over policed, in the street, in the house, and even on the football field. The ways race and racism animates who gets to do what to whom with or without consequence sparks a worldwide protest where publics everywhere brave increased exposure to a deadly virus to make their voices heard against the apathy and injustice endemic to institutional forms of oppression.
Meanwhile the COVID-19 zeitgeist lays bare the extent to which the perverse billionaire class are the arbiters of misinformation campaigns designed to amplify political fracture and dismantle any regulatory, moderation powers of the state.
The Poetry of America / nurse George Floyd’s
higher self into its freed ambition/
overwrites the dead text / the dissociated knee /
the acid reflux/ the incorrigible chorus
The baler crushed box / face down on the asphalt plot
on a too black street / Mama come to the wild bloom protest
Game time / hambone / hot wings podcast / popcorn /
police state / Tailgate / Jive Turkey / tweet tweet tweet
Elon musk and Thiel / Space X / Space junk/ banana peel
All the billionaires do / is scrape scrape and whittle
Whittle away at the indigenous clay
Coca Cola / halftime / clear bottle / old wine skin / they can’t help it /
they have to police even the touchdowns
This poem in its originating form, places Salvador Dali’s painting entitled The Poetry of America in conversation with Amiri Baraka’s revolutionary voice and seminal black radical poetics. We find ourselves somewhere among the outskirts of Dali’s time warping surrealism and the liminal ways Amiri Baraka’s work reprojects the American dream back onto itself for its own review. And sometimes Baraka’s own revolutionary aesthete gets chewed up when pressed against the queerness in his work and lived experience.
Referees cry foul in black & white uniforms, / are these outfits uniforms
or flashbacks? / Ain’t being born the point of being woke / or is we
all born again and biracial / at third and goal on Monday nights /
Who’s marking time at Washington Monument / We alway spelt
malcolm with an X / Amiri Baraka and LeRoi Jones belong
to this Norton Anthology/ Poems don’t die in America / and neither
do their secrets / letters go to the Smithsonian/ brains go
to science / we all die / from playing america’s favorite
pastime/ or simply from watching the game.
Poetry of America
Poetry of America is a rememory of what the pandemic became of us. Who we let it let us become.
In the taut tortured heights of a summer COVID-19 wave breaking across the United States and the world. George Floyd is murdered by the state. The whole world watches the slaughter from their ‘safe’ seats in COVID-19’s Quarantine Coliseum. A visceral tragic livestream of how black and brown bodies In America and elsewhere are over policed, in the street, in the house, and even on the football field. The ways race and racism animates who gets to do what to whom with or without consequence sparks a worldwide protest where publics everywhere brave increased exposure to a deadly virus to make their voices heard against the apathy and injustice endemic to institutional forms of oppression.
Meanwhile the COVID-19 zeitgeist lays bare the extent to which the perverse billionaire class are the arbiters of misinformation campaigns designed to amplify political fracture and dismantle any regulatory, moderation powers of the state.
The Poetry of America / nurse George Floyd’s
higher self into its freed ambition/
overwrites the dead text / the dissociated knee /
the acid reflux/ the incorrigible chorus
The baler crushed box / face down on the asphalt plot
on a too black street / Mama come to the wild bloom protest
Game time / hambone / hot wings podcast / popcorn /
police state / Tailgate / Jive Turkey / tweet tweet tweet
Elon musk and Thiel / Space X / Space junk/ banana peel
All the billionaires do / is scrape scrape and whittle
Whittle away at the indigenous clay
Coca Cola / halftime / clear bottle / old wine skin / they can’t help it /
they have to police even the touchdowns
This poem in its originating form, places Salvador Dali’s painting entitled The Poetry of America in conversation with Amiri Baraka’s revolutionary voice and seminal black radical poetics. We find ourselves somewhere among the outskirts of Dali’s time warping surrealism and the liminal ways Amiri Baraka’s work reprojects the American dream back onto itself for its own review. And sometimes Baraka’s own revolutionary aesthete gets chewed up when pressed against the queerness in his work and lived experience.
Referees cry foul in black & white uniforms, / are these outfits uniforms
or flashbacks? / Ain’t being born the point of being woke / or is we
all born again and biracial / at third and goal on Monday nights /
Who’s marking time at Washington Monument / We alway spelt
malcolm with an X / Amiri Baraka and LeRoi Jones belong
to this Norton Anthology/ Poems don’t die in America / and neither
do their secrets / letters go to the Smithsonian/ brains go
to science / we all die / from playing america’s favorite
pastime/ or simply from watching the game.
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