disbelief sustains me
like gnawed branches
like leavings left
in rotted piles
like smeary take-out wrappers,
tossed with a sneer
every second, somewhere,
scraps of decadence taunt.
morsels baked from sorrow sown.
obscuring the meal sneerers prefer i eat —
my own flesh clean from my bones.
Through all this,
I remember which animal I am.
Ignore their labels.
Dissolve their glue.
Remember the truth and Believe.
I care that I’m mostly not believed.
I must care more that I survive.
My muscle grows for
while I starve.
Can they legislate my votes away
before then? Slaughter me
on the news when I scream ‘Hell No!’?
Blame my murder on the Black Resilience
that monolithic whiteface wants to smash down?
Can they hold back the smile
as their disdain runs clear?
I know these answers.
It’s not about ugliness at the top.
Supports are embedded all around.
Some loud. Most tacit.
The one whose name has become a slur
wears many more faces than his own.
as strikes slam hard
on all sides.
Watch this, drink that,
absorb the commissioned drug
to numb. ‘Look forward, not here.’
‘The predators might not skin your hide.’
An ultimate end seduces much sweeter
than hope hollowed raw,
but I care what we leave
to the babies, so I hesitate.
Disbelief serves the monolith,
not the starved.
The #MeToos know.
I have to keep lifting the weight,
We’ll see if I live
till my hashtag dents.