I do not dream of yesterday
when all my troubles seemed so far away
but they are as near as my finger
touching the nose on my trembling face
and so false it is
when my choir sings on Sunday mornings that
trouble don’t last always
I can clearly see
the morning mist clearing the view
from the heavy lynch roped branches of southern trees
weeping women and children on their knees
as their men swing above them like
orchards of strange fruit
musical strains softly played in the background
the ghost of Lady Day
still singing from a long rusted microphone
but this ain’t yesterday
when we were meagerly rewarded
severely chastised based on our daily yield
the long unending
God forsaken crisp baking hours in the plantation field
back to being less than three fifths of a human being
and what I am seeing
isn’t a vision of long ago Antebellum
it will be the new norm once again
and when it happens
it’s just a matter of time
maybe tomorrow
you can see new building blocks
neatly placed over the old foundation of this nation
each day I watch the news reports
politics in military formation
packing the stacked conservative courts
like we used to stack cotton in our cloth bags
yeah
tickets back to plantation fields
not limited to southern states
but all across this once great nation
singing songs
again
in unison that
death is our only salvation
and this ain’t yesterday
tomorrow
coming into view faster than traffic during
I-80 evening rush hour
I must stop what I’m doing in a minute
and complete my online training for slurred speaking
remote
online sessions
gotta complete this soon
before they take away all my rights
and my ability to vote
God
will be my new representation in the senate
the house
the presidency
and all I will ever be once again
is uneducated
illiterate
my poetic pen
will be a memory I must keep to myself
and never again teach to another
I will kiss my family
today
before they are sold
tomorrow
just like they were sold
yesterday
it is coming
yesterday
it is coming
tomorrow