all them things are connected!

your violence… to mine…
my gender role’s to theirs…
as my gender… roles…
under him…
crawls… next to hers…
all… over… the place…
what place?
the place!

where i call home!
where you lord my land…

where i give birth…
to a slave…
to a soldier…
to a cop!

where my lover teaches our kids…
to become…
in that sad building where no child dances in its halls…
where you pay them to be meticulous…
wiping them clean of all imagination…

where my brother sits at the table with empty plates…
his tired sad slender fingers on the wooden surface…
as you dip your leftovers in chems….
god-forbid someone might…

where my sister works herself to death in your factory…
making guns… so they can kill my friend… that you don’t even know…
dancing in someone’s wedding… that you were never invited to…
with a smile…. that you never saw… you’ll never see…

where you talk about my backwards culture…
sipping on your coffee…
with layers of slavery…
swirling around like the milk in your cup…
that you stole from her child….
all the while, you sit there, smiling, with your noble cruelty…
dressed in a velvet suit and a big fucking powdered wig…
drenched in blood… my blood that is… our blood…

where your hands clenches on batons that i paid for…
my hands holding my lovers’ through your bars…

you see how all them things are connected?
you see it, you sick fuck!?