AMERICANISATION

Out, out damn-
nation! I say!
A nation of depravation,
An accumulative system of deprivation
Set in motion by years of segregation.

The ‘Long Fetch of History’ as Lipsitz said,
The long fetch of patterns of the past;
Patterns that see gains turned into segregation,
Segregation turned into congregation,
Only for congregation to be turned back into depravation.

There’s the displacement and disinherit history of housing discrimination,
Conjoined with the social warrant of privatisation.
While poverty for whites lasts a generation,
Wealth for African Americans is only a temporary celebration.
There’s no housing security; but there’s medical racism?

‘White Fright’ is the latest catalyst,
A catalyst for an excuse for police brutality;
Brutality from those who are taught The Constitution;
The Constitution and The Declaration of Independence
That allows Mike Brown’s ninety-second incident to be turned into an abomination.

Hand in hand both documents claim the right for all;
For all to have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness which is inhibited.
Inhibited and prevented in communities,
Incarcerated like the people of these communities,
Ignored in the air of these communities;
Ignored by the whites in power
Who have the power
But do not utilise their power
To remove this racialized time,
And remove the connotation;
The connotation that the minorities are disposable and unable.

That nation should be teaching us that everyone is able,
That all are created equal;
That everyone has the right to Exceptionalism
And not just the ones who proclaim racism.
Wasn’t that part of the thesis in eighteen-sixty-five,
In the Emancipation Proclamation,
That everyone has the right to freedom and equality;
T
o this so-called Americanisation?

A RUINED CHURCH

His footsteps no longer echoed. Instead the sound waves travelled past the shattered windows and over the dust-ridden piles of bricks scattered among the foundations: where the walls ought to have stood – perpendicular to the constantly clouded skyline. The fresh smell of dew and the musty smell of the old, clustered lavender candles reached the tip of his nostrils. Unsure whether it was this heavy scent, or the destroyed, unfamiliar complexion of the old place, he blinked away the salty tears that had already dampened his eyelashes.

Simultaneously, his agitated and nail bitten hands swatted away the flies that buzzes bodily around his hollow face whilst a sharp gust of wind entered his ears. This sensation and the flickering light as some candles delicately blew out, caused him to twitch his neck around rapidly, towards the direction of the light smoke billowing softly out from the wicks.

The hard end of his walking stuck struck the stone floor as he slowly turned his body and dragged his foot forward; the left one following in time. His wrist wavered under the pressure of the weight; unexpected perhaps, yet he was familiar with this routine.

Another set of footsteps entered behind him, following his presence and seeking conversation. His mouth remained a locked fine line along his face – willing to be able to keep his silence. He had come here wishing for the mild warmth of the candles to sweep over his thoughts and swap them with the light, retracting the memories as he himself retracted. Yet the persistent sound of breathing expectantly grew louder, hinting for a sense of communication.