the cafes are
forgotten, the arguments about elections,
the spitefulness of some cop or other
ears that hear wind through the trees
eyes that see the broken shacks
time has been wasted on the colonial regime,
liberation only to be seen in terms of violence
in terms of neighborhood struggle
in terms of armed struggle
militants running from
the police
learn the hard lessons of the people
peasants bowed too long
generous, and ready to sacrifice
driven by stony pride
rebels by instinct,
swelling into the villages
to test the strength of their own muscles
to push the leaders into action
the militants in turn
tutor the people
in ways political and military
the second-in-commands,
the rank and file proletariat
foot soldiers for intellectuals & consolationists
no longer, no longer willing to absorb rebellion
the spitefulness of some cop or other
ears that hear wind through the trees
eyes that see the broken shacks
time has been wasted on the colonial regime,
liberation only to be seen in terms of violence
in terms of neighborhood struggle
in terms of armed struggle
learn the hard lessons of the people
peasants bowed too long
generous, and ready to sacrifice
driven by stony pride
rebels by instinct,
swelling into the villages
to test the strength of their own muscles
to push the leaders into action
in ways political and military
the rank and file proletariat
foot soldiers for intellectuals & consolationists
no longer, no longer willing to absorb rebellion
*** please see the author's note in the comments ***
The title of this poem works a couple different ways: it is a ploy to re-contextualize Frantz Fannon into this moment & our current civil rights movement, but it is also a reference to the fact that the words in this poem are Frantz Fannon's, not mine, lifted directly from The Wretched of the Earth and cut up by me. As a matter of fact, I do not believe this even functions as a cut-up, since the words are not even really recontextualized in the manner of most cut-ups. I would consider this a condensed quote, I suppose.
ReplyDeleteOrdinarily I would leave it to the astute reader to suss this out, but I think a level of transparency is required & that I be up front about the genesis of this poem. These words are Fannon's, not mine, and I believe (or, I hope!) that they project his meaning with little interference from me. I do not want to claim what is not mine.