Articles, Blog

Gabby E. – “Fake News” @WANPOETRY (TGS 2018)

– Back home when shit gets too real we don’t run. We don’t raise fist and rally. There’s nowhere to go. We hide. We, young liberals have
conservative schools and bigot parents take
body shots from racism but still manage to come
out living in my south. No protest will be held for us. We know the stench, sting
and burn of white sheets over whiter faces in
the ring of uncle Tom’s consent long before
national news got to it. Have you ever heard the
word nigger line danced down the confederate flag tongue? Fly off the front porch of a pearly face. Shimmy it’s way through
picket fence of white teeth. Have you heard it’s
feet shuffle whimsically in your direction? Welcome to the south nigger,
this that southern comfort. That southern hospitality. That sweet tea with a side of
misogyny because everything sounds sweeter with a country accent. Breaking news. America has discovered racism still exists in the 21st century. Breaking news, Hitler’s
movement never ended. Breaking news confederates
are still trying to gentrify us from a country we built for them. The country we bled for them. The country we bent back
and broke bones to make them feel bigger. Breaking news, KKK is in your city. It ain’t fake news, KKK is in your city. In your schools, teaching your children. Lynching black and brown
bodies one prison pipeline at a time. Black and brown bodies been
singing hymns for too long been praying for deliverance been, been down and repenting, been
blindly bible hugging so long our fingers have contorted
around leather as brown as Jesus’ body. My pockets been seeking
reparations that look like pistols. My ancestors ain’t get
bodied over this me. In my city, in my south
we’re told not to fight. Smile and die. Dance and die. Play ball and die but don’t fight. They tell us that our fists
will get tired and that our voices will only die out at the march. When shit gets too real we learn to bury the
revolutionists in ourselves. To pick out the razor blade bigotry. To comfort the Emmett Tills
that we have as friends with bold faces. But none of us know what we’ve done wrong. Just that our skin justifies
for their mistakes. When shit gets too real we learn to Van Gogh catastrophe. You’re only taught how to
survive, every apology a coping mechanism because we never
understood how we could have been so wrong. Why my skin screams injustice? Why couldn’t they hear my
skin screaming for stillness? For peace. For crawfish feast and Sunday dinners. For simpler times like when
we didn’t scream in silence. When the whole country
didn’t broadcast our pain like fake news. Make a news segment of our demons. Funny. Y’all still can’t get the facts right. We southern liberals got tired
of fighting the minute the news broadcaster picked up our scripts. ♪ I see no changes ♪ ♪ All I see is racist faces ♪ – [Man] That’s Gabby Edwards, judges.

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