cut
Ebony Noelle Golden
sutured lips
catalogue flesh in footsteps
eyes sink and rip
tones shatter marathon nightmares tip
ephemera’s edge like the struggle of strep
throat choke stillness between sutured lips
translate the wring of fingers through nips
of fornicating lexicon daughters forgive what murmuring hearts repress
taut and permeable like unwanted funk that stinks and rips
cut we are smoothboned and goodhaired flip
water off our heals to mark our duress
we hold wet away from our faces dismiss through sutured lips
the rifts piling up at the base of our skulls press
and press and press heat into crisp
sprigs of winter hold homedust behind sutured lips
re(collect) eyes that sink and rip
(love and revolution are the same thing)
for Assata
Part I.
Dear Assata,
I bottled an ounce of ocean,
a pinch of sand,
two fireflies,
and one dogwood blossom
In a canning jar with three holes in it
Placed it in the Atlantic off the coast of Wilmington
Not far from Freeman’s beach
Where your grandmother
taught you the word “fierce.”
Yemaya carried it to the place where water tugs sky
And entrusted it to the ancestors
They pass it
wave by wave toward Havana
They pass it
Making a ring shout
On the ocean floor
Shifting weight
Clapping hands
Singing
“Revolutionary
Black woman
Black revolutionary
Woman
We have not forgotten you
Here
Part II
Dear Congressional Black Caucus—
Black people with access to power
Powerful black people
Power FROM the people
The ancestors are outraged
At the righteous indifference
The wanton forgetfulness
And malicious silence of the living
They have placed a name on the breeze
Joanne Cherimard
Assata Shakur
Joanne Cherimard
Assata Shakur
They have threatened to
Make it a tornado
Should the black nation
She fought to protect
Curse her name through
Heinous insults like “extradition”
again
They will not allow you reduce her to
a million dollar Gemini
A troupe on the wall
Of the hunter class
Gutted and stuffed
by Black
taxidermists
Is this the trick of integration?
Part III.
Dear Christy Todd-Whitman
Former New Jersey Governor Whitman
Negligent EPA Director Whitman
Would you have frisked Assata
and found nothing
Like you frisked Sherron Rolax,
an innocent black man-child
in Camden, NJ and found nothing
I admire your photo
You in all white
And him in all black
Made the image more surreal
Like the lynching postcards
Of white men smiling patriotically
Beside dangling black flesh
I searched the FBI’s most wanted list
And could not find you
These is no bounty on your head
For inviting New Yorkers
To inhale a steady diet of
asbestos, dioxins, and PCBs
too soon after 9/11
There is no bounty on your head
(yet)
dear Christy
but be warned
The hunter class eat their own
When it pleases them
Part IV.
Dear William Bennet
Former Education Secretary Bennet
“Abort every black baby” Bennet
Revolution and love are the same thing
So
In response to your suggestion
The ancestors have taken up arms
And are recycling themselves
Black people globally
Rushed to bed early
The night of your broadcast
Lit white candles
Fed each other
oysters, figs, ginseng and chocolate,
Put fertility dolls under their mattresses,
Were serenaded from the heavens
By Luther and Donny,
And began passionately creating
The next rebellion
Part V.
Dear Assata,
Last night
I whispered a prayer
in the ears of your cimarron angels,
placed a plate of fried croaker
And candied yams on the surf
And ask ocean mother
For your protection
I join my voice to the chorus of the breeze
Joanne Cherimard
Assata Shakur
Joanne Cherimard
Assata Shakur
Should the cowboys come . . .
The oil barons
The war mongers
The dangerously ignorance
And the righteous evil
I send you solidarity,
Will,
Compassion,
Defiance
An army of
Multi brown fists
Raised like this—
Power
The people still need
Power
Power to the power
NOW!
