This is not the dream.
I can no longer be content
to clap for scraps
thrown to people who look like me.
We are deserving.
Not 3/5ths!
Whole people!
Still auditioning
for our humanity
to be recognized.
We are
citizens of this nation.
This is not the dream!
When people in Flint are being systematically murdered
by unclean water
laying generational curses
while politicians tell outright lies.
Convince them not to believe their own eyes.
People die.
Their babies will reap the impact
of poison
ingested
bathed in
breathed.
Purposefully poisoned!
This is NOT the dream!
When griots and record keepers can’t even keep all the names straight
of innocents murdered in police “mistakes”
When the system investigates
and finds itself not guilty
time after
time after
time after
time after
time.
This is NOT fine.
This is NOT the dream!
Not why he died.
When the president elect of the Republican Party
is unapologetically anti.
Anti me, Anti you,
Anti truth.
And he fills stadiums
with hate.
This is NOT the dream.
And I weep
for the man, the reverend
who sacrificed his life
believing we would make it to the mountain top.
They just keep moving the fucking mountain!
And we?
We clap for scraps.
Indictments with no teeth
Not living on the street
Having enough to eat
This is NOT the dream!
This is not the dream!
America so white
Trending
People of color raging
demanding
to be acknowledged and seen.
And some
conforming
only to realize
you lost the best parts of you
and gained
nothing.
This is NOT the dream!
And some will read this
comment with words like progress.
And I’ll shrug.
I guess.
But in my heart I know they have acquiesced.
Believing the party line.
Look how good some of you have it
You’ll be fine.
Exceptions dangled to make you blind.
This is NOT the dream!
When Black parents are still educating their children
on how to NOT get killed by the wrong officer
Sons AND daughters.
I ask you,
How could THIS be the dream?
When shoes are worn out from marching,
calluses from letter writing,
fatigue from voter line waiting,
new Poll tests passing legislatures.
How could THIS be the dream?
This is NOT the dream!
I won’t pretend it is.
Keep your celebrations.
I have
letters to write,
marches to attend.
trials to protest.
I’m dreaming new dreams
based in reality.
Dreams of
Safety.
Because this?
This is NOT the dream
of Reverend
Doctor
Martin
Luther
King
Jr.
Dana Russell was born and raised in the Bronx, the birthplace of hip hop. Rhythm and rhyme were her first foods. Dana lives poetry. When she isn't doing all of the things associated with being Mother to a future boss she can be found performing at Ashford and Simpson's Sugar Bar. Dana wears her invisible tiara everywhere she goes and is known in the poetry world as HRH Dana. Don Quixote is one of her heroes and Dana spends an inordinate amount of time tilting at windmills and attempting to love the ugly, messy, beautiful world that we live in. More Dana: Web | Instagram | Facebook
