May Day, mayday.

On May 1, 2025May 2, 2026 By ©️K.T. 2026In america, American Apartheid, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, anti-zionism, Capitalism, Climate Chaos, Fascism, Free Palestine, Gaza, Genocide, gentrification, holocaust, Immigrants, Indigenous Land, inequality, kill lists, Labor Day, Liberation, May Day, Nazism, neo-liberalism, Nuclear Weapons, Palestine, Poem, poetry, Poverty, Regime, Resistance, Revolution, Sixth Mass Extinction, threshold, War, Xenophobia, ZionismLeave a comment

originally published May Day 2024, revised May Day 2025

workers of the world, unite!

The Haymarket Memorial 125th anniversary plaque dedication
April 30, 2011.
photo: by author

humans of the Earth, unite!

To The Comfortably-Numbed,

Petit Bourgeoisie:

“No Business As Usual During Genocide” — or — FASCISM!

15,000

no 30,000

Palestinian children, were murdered, not “died”

in seven, nineteen, months’ time.

300,000 — or more in Gaza on threshold of death by intentional starvation with consent of The West

you flaunt your epicurean life

while the workers and students and poets
and artists, all,
groundswell, to resist this violent, white tide,

// of the IDF

home and abroad,

training ICE

& your local SWAT precinct,

to disappear and deport //

and crucially, to liberate you — of the occupier & cop — living in your mind.

this is in fact,

the marketplace of one [1] singular idea:

Land.

Continue reading →

Protected: LL

On March 5, 2025March 27, 2026 By ©️K.T. 2026In American Apartheid, Chicago, Death, death and other endings, Essay, Family, friends, friendship, Funerary, Life, Life and Death, Mother, Poverty, reparations

illusion|elusion

On July 8, 2023July 11, 2023 By ©️K.T. 2026In being, Gnosis, Gnostic, magick, Poem, poetry, Poverty, The TricksterLeave a comment

do, do, do

go, go, go

try, try, try

see, see, see

get, get, get

say, say, say

show, show, show

plan, plan, plan

prove, prove, prove

your incantatory verbs

elude

the

magick

being

siphon

drove past the new plasma store
they’re buying, not selling
do you need to know more?

old cars fill up the vast parking lots
that pristinely fresh concrete,
marred by oil and brake fluid spots

this is a tale-of-two-river-cities,
white kids don’t sell platelets here/
this is no college town
this place was known
for Black boys, kidnapped and drowned

this fucking joint, is it never empty/
how many times can they draw blood per person, per month/
is it just two times – or twenty?

Freedom Plasma: there’s still Black blood to be drained!
24-7 audacity and
not ONE DROP of shame