nerve spasm-like 

feel a phone 

vibrate txt msg 

stresses in the 

air, in the fungi 

in my dress clothes, testing 

the fence for footholds – occupy congress

with images of Fukushima evacuees at

避難所 re providential mothership &

hegemonic world governance back patting

 fat sacks of cash that attracts – ‘that’ 

referring to the providential machine, maybe, idk

too busy to gleam the meaning, the something

helpless, stumbling white boy-wasted white

boy, anthropogenetic, awe, inspired to sacrifice 

our relief effort for less heavy-handed smoking

habits gerunding all these verbed nouns, the Other 

the Fuck Over It plastic bags for vomiting

free time and sad thoughts 

it’s risky to get caught up in that turvy 

swirling boombox bandwagon zoo – NYC

cops, damn them too

like gastric bypass surgery of treaties, meaning

demand indigenous rights to right historic wrongs

manifest throngs of veterans for penitence, reparations

to shock doctrine the Mayflower throned home of the

colonial settler – two birds & one nest in the vent above the 

stove like shock doctrine, flip the switch on that double tap 

tactic hither thither homelessness, housefulness, idk

warmongers murmur murder, money, murder 

ra ra ra, go Yankees, go Jackson, go uranium bomb tests

re Cold War but still killing Navajo people because 

Fifth Freedom sovereignty, idk, read about it though

or don’t and, like, whatever that security/police state

cynical sensationalist

twinkle lights strung from a window sill
and strewn across a desk, apple rotting
on a plate, lit incense, pile of ash
on a cardboard square, harsh white beneath
a circline compact fluorescent lamp that
fills the room and spills out the door
held shut by an axial box fan because
the knob is broken and the landlord is day-drunk
and his wife is yelling and forgiving of the
wine bottles that litter the floors
heated by a hydronic radiator which is a
growing trend in Australia, i hear
from the internet, after i search for
more information about how i was staying warm
hunched over on a coconut mattress which feels stiffer
than tatami, but i got used to that like living
depressed without a job and not doing anything
about it beyond mumbling about mushrooms and
wanting to trip or take a trip or move away, for the
time being, not be in this apartment above a
dysfunctional family’s yelling and not shoveling
until a flatmate fell and broke her leg or
something severe for her age, which is older
than mine by decades, which is to say i can walk on
ice and it’s basically fine to slip and sway and
wobble through college saying “i think i’m dropping
out next semester, cause this is bullshit, and the
university no longer makes space for cultural change
because neoliberalism made the institution a site for
capital investment & accumulation, turning students
from producers into products and objects of circulation
who learn bureaucracy before community
answer questions politely and do not ask why
cops get paid more than professors
and do not protest when war criminals teach honors classes
receive honorary awards, have new institutes in their names
while the Guillermo Morales/Assata Shakur Center gets raided
and reappropriated as a career center because radical activism
is passé, is yesterday, is unrelatable, and those who
resist get pepper-sprayed and detained as the campus papers
get thinner and fade away, deteriorate.”
"I know, but, anyway, be grateful for this opportunity
you know, many people would kill for this.”
"You know, many people were killed for this."
"You know, you don’t need to look at it that way."

cummy big maple sap raspy

like putting a cummy big ‘M’ impressed napkin in a plastic concentric red circle patterned white bag and not proper nouning ordering or hyphenating anything anytime anywhere because emphasizing empire through recognition is passé and am actively not about it like get busy expending thought on undoing as a how to deal with this which is make a motion in a direction, to say the least. to say the most would be superfluous, but do it anyway just nose scratch and maybe try to compose a batch of intentioned letters like about fated lovers destiny & romanticizing the fuck & allusions to wedlock violence & beer cans all along the wall by the window or by the desk or by the bed or by the door or by the air mattress that has been inflated and just there for months now. it would be silly to not think to do a thing about it but like

someone to glance at me watch me glance back glance back at me watching

something to make my ears feel color eyes taste warmth lips like labia humming

somewhere to shower in honey & milk & maple sap & pollen on brows & lashes 

lifted somehow happy raspy & exasperate ‘hehe’ day drink & self love preceding action


ご自由にお使い下さい。(Irregular Rhythm Asylum)high-res (JPG):


ご自由にお使い下さい。(Irregular Rhythm Asylum)
high-res (JPG):


Today in History: Wounded Knee Occupation of 1973

The occupation began as a demonstration for Lakota rights organized by members of the American Indian Movement (AIM) in the town of Wounded Knee, located on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.1 For the organizers, the Lakota people, and historians, the community has great significance. Eighty-three years earlier, in 1890, Wounded Knee was the site of a major clash between the Lakota and the United States Army. This original event is considered the end of the Indian Wars.

In 1973, the community on the Pine Ridge Reservation was deeply divided along political and cultural lines. Some community members asserted that the tribal chairman had abused his power by placing the tribal police force under his direct command and using violence and threats to intimidate community members who opposed his vision. The chairman’s supporters argued that he was working to preserve law and order on the reservation. 

From what I understood at the time, there were many people passionate about making a dramatic stand at Wounded Knee that would highlight everything we as Oglala Lakota and generally, Indigenous people everywhere, were suffering with and fighting against. —An excerpt from an oral history entitled, “Grassroots Memories of a Teenage Girl 1973" provided by Ethleen Iron Cloud-Two Dogs.

Declaring themselves representatives of the leaders of the Oglala Nation, AIM members seized the town of Wounded Knee on February 27. Heading the protest were AIM leaders whose goals included recognition of the1868 Fort Laramie Treaty with the Sioux Nation, the removal of the tribal council, and new elections. The 71-day occupation attracted national media coverage and reawakened a national debate over the treatment of American Indians throughout the United States.

Government officials and members of the self-proclaimed Guardians of the Oglala Nation placed roadblocks to prevent access to the area, which the protesters had declaried to be the Independent Oglala Nation. Escalating tensions led to gunfire. Two people were killed from gunshot wounds and more than a dozen were wounded. One federal officer was seriously injured.2 After a series of negotiations, the occupation ended on May 8, 1973. Altogether, over 400 people were arrested as a result of the Wounded Knee occupation, resulting in 275 cases in federal, state and tribal courts.

On May 5th, an agreement was reached calling for a meeting on treaty rights between Native American leaders and government officials. A meeting was held on May 30th, but officials from President Nixon’s administration declined to hold further discussions. The subsequent trials of AIM leaders Russel Means and Dennis Banks attracted national attention. Charges against both men were dismissed after Judge Fred Joseph Nichol determined that there had been prosecutorial misconduct.

The occupation of Wounded Knee was a significant moment of Native American activism. Decades after the siege, many of the facts and the interpretation of the events at Wounded Knee in 1973 remain contested and controversial among  American Indians and non-Indians.

Fighting the Oppressor

Fighting the Oppressor

By Kevin Cooper
February 2014

This essay speaks to one of the many forms of oppression.

As an African American who is committed to fighting, and ending oppression, no matter where it happens, or who it happens to, I have to speak the truth. And my truth is what I have witnessed and personally experienced here in San Quentin Prison on Death Row since 1985.

I find myself in a real life-and-death situation here on Death Row, where hate, and for certain people, self-hatred, is an ongoing situation. Of course, this is not true concerning all the death row inmates, and I would be lying if I said that it was.
But what I am writing about happens enough to deserves attention.

Here, in this institution, as well as in all other modern day plantations there are only two types of people. They are the Oppressors and Oppressed! I am an oppressed person, and in truth, all the other inmates within these walls are Oppressed, even if some of them don’t think that they are, or aren’t  aware that they are.

There are certain inmates, who instead of uniting as one strong oppressed people in order to make all of our lives more peaceful and better, would rather (and in fact do) raise their fists in violence than raise their voice. They speak words of disrespect towards other oppressed inmates for whatever reason, (even if that reason is a made-up one), in order to hate and start trouble and keep madness going among us. Yet, these very same inmates refuse to raise their voice to the oppressor. They refuse to even raise an ink pen to write about the oppressor and this oppressive system of death that has us all imprisoned, and is trying to execute us—this system that is made to destroy us mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and every other type of way that it can before it murders us physically.

Whether these inmates do this consciously or unconsciously isn’t known by me or other inmates who also see this and shake their heads in disbelief like I do. What we do know however is this truth: The oppressor and his supporters love for this to happen, and they love to see it happen. They want and need to keep us oppressed people fighting each other. The good old game of divide and conquer is one of their most effective tools. These so called Brothers who are doing the oppressors’ work for them claim to know all about this game of divide and conquer, yet they still keep participating in this game to the detriment of we who are oppressed!

In 1964, the late Malcolm X stated to a crowd of people in Harlem that, “If you aren’t careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing”! He further stated, “The Oppressor is fighting you in the morning, fighting you at  noon, fighting you at night, and fighting you all in between, and you still think it’s wrong to fight them back! Why?”

This is exactly what is going on within this and other modern day plantations to one degree or another. I must also ask “Why?” As I and other inmates continue to do our part in this historical struggle for our collective human rights we do so consciously, and we refuse to do the oppressors’ work for him!

Though I and others are forced to live in such a place against our will doesn’t mean that we have given up or given in. It doesn’t mean that we will let the oppressor make us turn on each other in a negative way. We will continue to work to end all of our collective oppression as best we can.

Those inmates who choose to work against us and for the oppressor either don’t know, or don’t care that they are being misused by the oppressor. As the late Bantu Steven Biko, who is the father of Black Consciousness in South Africa, once said: “The most powerful weapon of the oppressor is the minds of the oppressed!”
Many of us on these modern day plantations refuse to give our minds or our spirits to these wholesale oppressors.  Those that do, “That’s their bad.” Only in acknowledging what is going on, can some of us avoid this trap that is easy to fall into here behind enemy lines.

In Struggle and Solidarity from Death Row at San Quentin Prison, 
Kevin Cooper  

Precedence Day

vomiting third moon
to holidays/holy days
and Hollidazzle parade 
tradition re: Minneapolis skyway
stay insulated like morning
coffee for the global North
which is to begin to critique
capitalism & cis-heteropatriarchy
contingency on citizenship
reckoned as identity rather
than as prerogative to 
act/build/connect community
beyond convenient stores
99 cents & Stallion 
do that repeatedly cause alternative
ways might be difficult so

wait a while
patiently, nakedly centuries
for righteous & justice & armistice
just kidding, just rotting
GMO nectarines good
luck glares re: turnstile jump 
door walk through anxious
peaking at pedestrian for undercover
types, only advertisement: propaganda
see the entitltementality re: settler colonialism
projectile implicating all speakers of this language
meaning conversations about
internalized racism and the political
category of whiteness as foundational
to light-skinned privilege bartering
success stories is more important than
day drinking on Presidents’ Day

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"Making sense of the disjunctions (in identity politics) relies on notions such as false consciousness ー the systematic mystification of the experience of the oppressed by the perspective of the dominant... Individuals' perceptions of their own interests may be systematically distorted and must be somehow freed of their misperceptions by group-based transformation." - C Heyes (2002) Identity Politics

mostly poetry & quotes & images

•••• ¢ata¢onda

All Wars Fought