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A Dark City (Onyx)

This is a “Poem of the Day” feature piece


This is my space

I am not movin I am not leavin

These cracked streets Torn green garbage cans Overflowing wit evidence Of a town well-lived Underappreciated Forgotten/ and mis-remembered In the history books As some city of Museums Courthouses and Ivory buildings brutalism jarring As the white men who erected Statues in their own honor Blocks of alabaster against An onyx go-go On Florida avenue Caribbean fest on Georgia

They can paint As many buildings as they like Restock every street with Cookie cutter coffee shops And lil yoga studios

We will storm the barricades Rob the rich Until we find what we need A return of the darkness To this place

All the whites, oranges, and greens Plastered onto historic Usdta be homes And shops Will not cover The dark blood seeping through Brick and concrete Bubbling from the grounds Of Malcolm X Park Shaking the Big Chair Loose from its ensconced throne Calling forgotten slaves From the bottom of the Anacostia To breathe life Back into this Dying City

© Ama Akoto (2018)

In response to “nappy edges (a cross country sojourn)” by Ntozake Shange


#gentrification #PoemoftheDay #WashingtonDC

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