how many times must we say this?

I know for a fact/ you want me to detract

    have me add: 

        “but not all cops”

or  “but not all ancestors”

        just like my whole life you’ve been telling me/to stop yelling and add “but not all men”

i see the flags i always see/ and i wanna scream right back

    draw a picture, add a flame

    let go of any tame,

    shout his name 

but add 

an expletive

            (he who should not be named/thank god i never liked harry potter that much anyway

    i know what you wished i’d add here:

    a cherry rosebud honey smile

    and a lavender milk soft, soft voice

    something comfy you can slip into.

                    Do You Think The Sidewalk Was Soft?

                    (the one he asked for his mom from,

                    the one she fell asleep on,

                    the one he walked home on)

But even bed’s aren’t safe, so I guess/ there’s your right to ask me to soften my words, make them less

    (breonna taylor, breonna taylor, breonna taylor, i mourn for you/ 

every single morning i get to wake up safe. 

Arrest them, someone, anyone, please.)

when i go to protests, the things they yell from the street/ a lot of them need to be BEEPED out 

    they say “but he deserved it”, they say “ALL LIVES MATTER”,

    they say “tr*mp, tr*mp, tr*mp.

                    tell me what that could possibly mean

                    other then he exists in direct contradiction

                    to black people. 

actually don’t. I’ll do you a favor and not hide insults as:

 questions

    “morals” 

        friendly debates

                & all those other things i’ve heard.

the night he got elected,

            i cried and cried. 

                    i was a worried young white girl, stupid and afraid

that we’d get bombed or pushed back to the good old days (that i knew in my heart weren’t good)

    i made signs for the woman’s march crying because i had just started to realize quite how cruel

    all of this was, why i got strange looks when i drew all sorts of people in my coloring books

    “wow, it’s so creative you draw black people--and look, there’s a chubby character, too!”

i started listening to punk rock that year                         no it’s not a phase Granny. sometimes your ears ache but at least you’re not the only one screaming.

i grew up in a big old Tr*mp Town, there are signs and bumper stickers and flags and flags on trucks

& confederate flags that i wish i could tear down and make illegal in a flash of a match

    & sometimes there are people who have fire in their throats too

            & that’s (one of) the only reasons i still like this town.

good happens so slowly; this guitar solo is too freaking long/ 

please someone let me skip ahead passed this time when every Right is wrong.

here’s my song that’ll leave Bikini Kill blushing:

        ABOLISH THE POLICE

        TEAR DOWN THE RACIST STATUES

        & BAN THE REBEL FLAG

        IMPEACH THE PRESIDENT

        (HE’S A SYMBOL TOO)

        and the bridge:

    fund social services/

care for people who aren’t you/

how hard is it to say “Black Lives Matter”