Black Friday?

Thought solemnity—
bowed heads, hands held,
streams of consciousness,
Blessings counted the day before:
Flowing water;
No rockets’ red glare; No
dead bird, cranberry,
pumpkin pie feasts was a prelude

Thought our ship came in,
Redressing ships making us
Thought it was about
Reparations—or 99%
demands on the way…

Thought it was about
Reparations—or at least—wild-eyed kinfolk
storming Wall Street, body-slamming,
beating down banksters and taking back
stolen Homes;
stampeding corporate headquarters,
snatching Single-Payer from
bloody hands of war profiteers;
wrenching Affordable Housing from
kleptocrats and lying politicians;
wrestling Boss Tweet to the
floor, pummeling he and torch
monkeys marauding the nation!

Next morning, glass cages
opened peculiar flashbacks:
Vaunted Negro buying-power on
fours—clawing for sweatshop shit…

Former forklift driver/warehouse worker/janitor, Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. Read other articles by Raymond Nat, or visit Raymond Nat's website.