It’s springtime for fascism and the “resistance” is currently comprised of a bunch of leftists reenacting the last scene of Reservoir Dogs.
Tonight, I need this page to be a wall I can chalk a poem on, before walking away.
There is a grief that precedes tragedy, when loss is on the horizon.
From one cluster fuck to another: What does hope look like at the end of 2016?
There comes a point where critiquing the absurd becomes an even sillier act than the one being called into question.
This is a complicated moment for many with anti-interventionist politics.
At the Kaskaskia River, the pipe was not in the ground as of December 9.
The United States, as a nation-state, is as diseased now as the smallpox-ridden blankets that were handed to us so many years ago.
We have survived this nation state’s will for us because we are a fire that their water cannons cannot extinguish.
Our people will continue to resist in and beyond this moment, as this is but one front in the wars being waged against us.