and the award goes to


i’m your video boy

or (wo)man

or girl.

and this

is your world

spine

is a jenga castle

conquered.

is the sound

that a hymnal makes when you close it

shut

quickly.

without care and without

warning

but the siren is

the warning.

wonder how my name will read in the credits?

will they spell it right

will they

use my nickname

will they call me a newcomer to this

craft

of resistance.

me.

a seasoned star.

blockbuster, headliner

broadway

has never seen a musical as realistic as my screaming

my screaming?

sent black children to their beds, worried

sent

black mamas to their jobs, worried

sick.

you could call it a sickness.

or

a production.

i

am the feature in a centuries-long production,

today

and i ain’t even get a nomination.

never won the oscar. i

tried

to lose my breath on cue

just

like daddy taught me when i was 9

in the backseat of his buick when you introduced yourself

but

did they like it?

my immortalization

live and unedited

unfathomable

unimaginable

almost

as if we hadn’t ever rehearsed this

almost

as if we hadn’t ever acted

before.

you and i are co-stars, now. you and i

are family, here, in this place between badge and breath

holy not

we are made but we are something, now, you

are something now, murderer

or man with no patience for black people living.

it is all the same.

and

cameras

are only left on when somebody wants to get caught so

you could say we both

been waiting on this day for years

and years and

years.

now

smile.

we’re on screen now and the whole world is watching

waiting

for a jolt

for a jolly

for a resounding

rejection

“i swore

i have seen this film

before

the characters

the script all seem so familiar”

waiting

for someone to charge plagiarism

to walk out of the theater

or away from their laptops

and into

a street or some

shit.

holy not

we are made but we are something, now, i

am martyr now to the girl whose eye i never caught in high school

funny

how my face won’t ever leave her memory nowadays

ain’t it.

officer?

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