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Never Mind & Wait

If there is anything I hate more
Than waking up in the morning,
It is putting on pants.

But more than pants,
I hate the suburbs:
Where white people

Pretend to like vegetables
And pretend to pay taxes
And pretend the American Dream.

But more than the suburbs,
I hate the lies we tell ourselves
To survive.

Now it’s #PrayforPeace
And #YourVoteCounts
Oh yeah is that right?

Well hooray for Today
Cause it’s all squared away!
We are set.

The charcoal cup
Of the American Dream
Is filled to the brim…

Grab your lipstick
Grip your lollipop –
Cause up on top the view is


But more than the lies
I hate the shame for my race
Because in the first place:

Cultural Appropriation
Is not a fashion statement

Che Guevara was not a hero
And Tupac was a poet shot
September 13th, 1996

Not a hologram
At Coachella

And please don’t get me started
On kitschy bitchy shit like Kardashians
“Throwing Shade” –

Playing like they
Know something.
What do they know?

Tell me Kim,
Did you know that Putin invaded Ukraine
But nobody bothered to call it a war?

Did you know that little old ladies
Knit knickers for young Ukrainian men
Going out to fight & die for their country

While the BBC calls it “Shelling.”

What is it gonna take
For modern society
To call it like it is?

For instance,
This 2 Party System
Is not a system.

If it doesn’t work
It’s not a system,

Which reminds me,
Oh yes,
Of the Criminal Justice System.

You see,
Within the charcoal cup
Of our American Dream

There lies the wretched refuse
On our teeming shores:
That which must be dealt with.

Never mind the time is takes or the taxes;
Never mind the severity of the crime;
Never mind the circumstance or second chances.

Never mind Cruel & Unusual Punishment;
Never mind 1.5 Million Missing Black Men;
Never mind that 82% of women living

In American prisons are survivors
Of domestic violence.
Eighty-two percent.

Correctional Association Dot Org
Slash issue Slash Domestic Dash Violence

Never mind
The 22 veterans die who by suicide
Every day in America,

Which is,
Like almost,
One person per hour

(Land of
The Freedom
To Kill Yourself?).

Never mind the 32, 514 people who
Who die by gun violence every year
In this crimson country,

And like a river that won’t part like
A lover who will not say exactly what they mean
My country…

My country trumpets
Through television
That it’s the enemy we don’t see

Beneath the turban
In a desert far away
Struggling with grenades like puppies

While we wait
And wait and wait and
wait and wait.

And as predicted,
We take
The bait.

Where was I?
Oh yes…

As y’all must know by now,
Syria is the world’s largest producer
of refugees but

Did Network Television tell you about the
7.5 million Syrian children who are
in need of humanitarian aid?

That was
Probably implied.

And you’ve heard about the
kidnapping of nearly
300 Nigerian school girls

Never mind that
In that same year
85% of all

Female suicide bomb attacks
In the entire world
Were carried out by

You guessed it,
Young girls from

And let’s not even bother to mention
The Four Thousand Two Hundred & Seventy One
Children injured

During the 2014
Israeli military operation
On the Gaza Strip.

While we are forgetting things,
Do me one solid
And forget about Chicago –

Forget about its South Side
Where more Americans
have been murdered since 2001

Than have died
In Iraq & Afganistan

Yeah forget Chicago.
And please don’t mind
Baltimore Oakland Philadelphia or Detroit.

Flint, Michigan?
Where the fuck
Is that?

Let’s also forget about:
Emmett Till
Medgar Evers
Henry Dumas
Fred Hampton
Amadou Diallo
Sean Bell
Oscar Grant
Trayvon Martin
Jordan Davis
Eric Garner
Michael Brown.

Forget about Black Lives!
Forget about Occupy!
Forget about the American Dream.

All of this is temporary –
The burnt crimson charcoal cup,
The pretense for getting up in the morning

It’s all gonna end
And the cultural implications
Of our dim 2 Party system

Won’t be heard
Above all
Our fears.

“Good Morning,
You’re listening to
National Public Radio.”

“God Bless America.”
“Have you tried
The wine?”

It’s funny,
I’m hungry,
But I can’t eat.

I am surrounded
By water,
But I can’t swim.

And all I can think about is
How I hate waking up in the morning
And I really hate pants.

Never mind Statistics or Ballistics;
Never mind the Witness;
Never mind the Pretense.

Forget about Change –
It doesn’t concern

If there is anything
I hate more than Disregard,
It is the stuffy shit

Of this Patriarchal Society
Which does not pay
Women equal to men

Which holds down the downtrodden
Whilst calling it “Conservatism”
And I’ll tell you

What I really
Fucking hate,
It’s that

Being angry & anxious & articulate
Only gets me far away eyes screaming
“You are a crazy bitch…”

Yeah, that’s right,
I heard you.
I heard you thinking

My display of emotion
Is a flaw
Of my Femininity

That women should be seen
And not heard
Long enough for them to say,

“Thank you, sir”
But then women can
Shut up

And wait for good things to come to them
Rather than grabbing and ripping
Sweet peaches from the tree.

Well fuck that
I will not
Shut up

Never mind,
I will not

As long as Truth waits
Up on that jagged ledge,
I am gonna stand right here

Holding my edge
of the blanket,
Waiting for the Truth

To fall or
Jump and

Where are
y’all gonna


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