Member-only story
white cake blues
this is for the tender souls who criticize marie antoinette
while they kick their feet up in coffee shops talking round and round the performative nature of speaking up
while artfully keeping their mouths silent and shut
she was just a kid, stupid rich, who didn’t know what to do
don’t you hear in her voice, the echoes of you?
this is for the sensitive boys who don’t think that their voices needed to be heard today when it mattered
but got loud every time a woman of colour raised her hand to speak in class
it’s for every person with a uniform and blue badge
complicit in a system where there is no justice to be had
it’s for every substitute teacher who told my friends to speak in english
why couldn’t you learn spanish?
it’s almost as if learning a language is difficult or something
this is a rage poem to the boys in lifted trucks who are okay with shouting “faggot” to we who are standing on corners just waiting to cross streets
interesting how the yelling bothers you when it’s not about straight or white things
this is a clarion sounding deep in the distance for all of those who know
that the right path is not the path of least resistance
let us take, let us take, let us take from the systems of oppression
for only then will we be able to eat our cake
