Matana Roberts – i stand, i suffer, we soar.

i stand. i suffer. we soar.

where i end, they begin.

can you hear me?

i speak memory i shout her-his-story, i envision our dreams. come with me.

this work. a culmination of spooks, spirits, memory. can not literalize it really. it’s my twisted memory, my twisted spooks, my twisted spirits, in some ways my lore, not yours.

lets’s make a list

memphis, mississippi, new orleans, africa, ireland, france, england, scotland, etc etc etc choctaw, cherokee chicksaw. acadian/canadian. amerikkkan. so many other things most likely smashed/crashed in between. can you hear me?mystery of collective memories, some heard but never seen. ashland, mitchum, halsted, 95th street. some seen, but never heard. some whispered, some screamed. hop hip. can you hear me? chicago? jacqueline faye jones. a migration of a gypsy people. searching. can you hear me? 55th Garfield. 97th. low-e. beale street. long ways to go. east st luis, south side, 125, west side,  eyes open wide. a barbeque. a long syllabic refrain. acceptance of a difference not chosen. red, tada, the black and green, jones, the laying down of arms. on our backs, bat israel.davis. stepping on/over/onwards. trails of tears, a light, long run. a long light sob. cold blood. warm blood. the kindness. wondering. hughes. lorde, emma. ntozake. bell. shabazz, scott, kings. queens.

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