Manifestos, prejudice and gleaming sedans

Are the Holy Trinity of the post-revolutionary diaspora.

There’s an interesting word: diaspora.

We’ve been fucking each other brown

Since we slithered out of the soup

And while the sons of the revolution ride on horseback

The daughters of the revolution stay at home

Tending babies and bank accounts

And now what motivates me

To walk down dark halls

Leads others to pick up the gun.

Its got the weight to change history.

The caliber of weaponized words.

We hate each other.

Here, take my hand,

I’ll show you how…


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