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"A Sketch about Genocide" by Tongo Eisen-Martin

1/8/2021

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​Originally from San Francisco, Tongo Eisen-Martin is a poet, movement worker, and educator. His latest curriculum on extrajudicial killing of Black people, We Charge Genocide Again, has been used as an educational and organizing tool throughout the country. His book titled, "Someone's Dead Already" was nominated for a California Book Award. His latest book "Heaven Is All Goodbyes" was published by the City Lights Pocket Poets series, was shortlisted for the Griffin Poetry Prize and won a California Book Award and an American Book Award.

A Sketch about Genocide


A San Francisco police chief says, “Yes, you poets make points. But they are all silly,”

Police chief sowing a mouth onto a mouth
Police chief looking straight through the poet

Flesh market both sides of the levy
Change of plans both sides of the nonviolence

                                                     On no earth
                                                     Just an earth character

His subordinate says, “Awkward basketball moves look good on you, sir... Yes, we are
everywhere, sir... yes, unfortunately for now, white people only have Black History ... we will
slide the wallpaper right into their cereal bowls, sir ... Surveil the shuffle.”

I am a beggar and all of this day is too easy
I want to see all of the phases of a wall
Every age it goes through
                                       Its humanity
                                       Its environmental racism

We call this the ordeal blues
Now crawl to the piano seat and make a blanket for your cell
Paint scenes of a child dancing up to the court appearance
And leaving a man,
                          but not for home

Atlantic ocean charts mixed in with parole papers
Mainstream funding (the ruling class’s only pacifism)

Ruling class printing judges (fiat kangaroos)
Making judges hand over fist
Rapture cop packs and opposition whites all above a thorny stem
Caste plans picked out like vans for the murder show
anglo-saints addicting you to a power structure

you want me to raise a little slave, don’t you?
bash his little brain in
and send him to your civil rights

No pain
Just a white pain

Delicate bullets in a box next to a stack of monolith scriptures
                             (makes these bullets look relevant, don’t it?)


                                                                                                                                                                     I remember you
                                                                                                 Everywhere you lay your hat is the capital of the south
                                                                                                                        The posture you introduced to that fence
                                                                                                                   The fence you introduced to political theory

                                                                                                                                               If you shred my dreams, son
                                                                                                                                                I will tack you to gun smoke

                                                                                                                                       The suburbs are finally offended 
                                             
                                                                                                                                                this will be a meditation too
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