People, we are dissipating like puddles
even while we are growing like cancers
on the suckling tweet of our Mother,
It takes half a nation of backwards faces
to stir a shrinking vox populi, fear of a
former black First, a black fist, a brown swell,
our cultural riot gear should shrivel like
worms on a sidewalk, yet so many rage like
the dying of the light, hiding their minds
like ostriches in the dirt where their fright
masks hide, where the masks only stink of
hate don’t bleed the truth. Can we get a witness?
: andy l. kubai : writer : 