Newerican
American
Américan
Am-é-rican
Nuyorican
Newerican
Brooklyn bard
code switchin’ orator
home of Biggie and Basquiat
scribblin’ sonnets in the womb of my mama
she birthed a riot
I don’t know how to keep quiet
my tongue tattooed with the track marks
of trailblazers spilling ink from marginalized pages
call me newerican
baptized by the word of El Reverendo
resurrected in the spirit of Laviera y Piñero
byproduct of bars, beats, breaks and de Burgos
street corner literary lateros
slinging stanzas for change in
gentrified hoods of orphaned children
pimped out by proprietors and Whole Foods
call me Newerican
next generation still dying for a cause
and acceptance
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
becomes Amadou
becomes Sean
becomes Reynaldo
becomes Timothy
becomes
becomes
becomes
a new obituary for black and brown bodies
who all died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
who all died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
dreaming about America
waking them up and whispering
black and brown lives matter
America, where his story is bookmarked
So we take a page from our forbearers
fix our mouths in protest
a litany for survival
praise Lorde
and the gospel of Louis Reyes Rivera
the ghosts that take space
between the sharpened teeth of oral tradition
where our word is bond
for every time they demanded
we spic up!
we spic up !
we spic up!
we spoke out!
raised our fists in effigy
shouted Pa’lante!
revitalizing the infrastructure of
vanguards to hold the weight
of our brave new voices
Newerican, we stand tall
on the shoulders of a movement
that broke barriers in barrios from Loiza
to the lower east side
and back down these mean streets
to break bread with Baraka and
revolutionize minds
and this time it will be televised
covered on prime-time
die ins and picket signs
and Gil Scott Heron will smile
here in New York
we either move forward or get left behind
so we grind
Punto!
© Maria Rodriguez Morales. Published by permission in Centro Voices on 24 April 2015.
