Store
by ayodele nzinga
? have you seen America
? she round your way
I been trying to pull up
want her & the dream
come out & play
? you seen America
tell her
! i got time today…
America the myth
big as the lie of race
ain’t no such thing
no such place
if there was an America
It would look like me
the label
would say
built by me
made by my existence
& the echoes of my
resistance
democracy is my
fingerprints
on the Pettis bridge
blood
on the stage
of the Audubon Ballroom
in the shadow
under the balcony at
the Lorraine motel
falling from a mountain top
dead shortly after arrival
at highland hospital
in the middle of every
hood slipping in blood
& crying for its mother
the places
America struggles
to birth herself
still dreaming
still
still born
if you talk about America
or dream about
me thinking about
my freedom
picture me racing you
to the edges of your
flawed constructs
stitched sloppily over
your greedy
which
we ritually burn
setting fire to your
supreme need to profit off
other people’s land labor & flesh
race you to where your guilt live
next door to your fear
pull up on your safe place
your myth of race
& smooth undo you
in black majick dreams
i deconstruct you
& save the world
i am every dream America
ever had about herself
determined to be
got no ambient melting point
i am not resilient
i am persistent
anointed transformer
you see the
godz in me
no surrender
400 plus deep
born in the water
still dancing
outside the birthing room
taking stock of
the complications
the commodification
of everything
imagined
including me
& still
i imagine
your possibility
still birth
after
still birth
still weighing you worth
& certain that if there
were an America
it would know it’s the
result of a gaping wound
2/3rds blues
a side show
a high speed chase
a chance past forgiveness
a pile of dead bodies
a nocturnal scream
an endless prize fight
with no winner
dogs & hoses
my grandma’s prayers
my dead brothers
terminal prison sentences
7 shots from a 22
ricocheting no way
to stop the bleeding
on life support
a lie whispered by old
white people
a tale told by slaves
waiting for trains
that move like chariots
over the water
like the ghost
of the still
born dream
called
America
? have you seen America
? she round your way
I been trying to pull up
want her & the dream
come out & play
? you seen America
tell her
! i got time today…
America the myth
big as the lie of race
ain’t no such thing
no such place
