Because sometimes I read an article like this one by Sanjiv Bhattacharya, published in October 2016, prior to Trump’s election—and I don’t know where to go except into the raw knuckle breath of a poem.
Your Trending Race War
“I do not advocate violence, but I will give my life for my blood…. And for the honor of my ancestors.”
The Beach Goys fraternize at Manhattan Beach. The racism of lulz is real. The fist’s color is livid. All colors oppose the rainbow in equal division. Diversity equals white genocide. Abortion equals black genocide. Inter-racial marriage equals race-traitor type shit. Should I be silent and stay avidly cute? Maybe watch the men argue over land while sowing old seeds inside female bodies? Since there is a white supremacist who loves Jimi Hendrix. There is a race realist who treats everyone with respect on a micro level. There is an evolutionary psychologist who brews coffee for his wife. There is a pastor who teaches the macro to his flock of seagulls. There is a granny who knows different races will never get along. There is an activist who only sees hope in Balkanization. There is a donor who invests in racial conflict to get to the end more quickly. There is a time of separate but equally hateful bodies when neo-Nazis brew kombucha and sell solar panels. There is an article where a man takes offense at being called a neo-Nazi just because he admires Hitler. He is also a Buddhist who lived in Japan. More than anything, he wants to inspire people. To choose a side. Pick your color. Declare yourself chosen. Let those ancestors do the rest.