visual poem set in tall skinny columns on a green and yellow background with large abstract text forms

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not enough to count all the jotxs that died for this

No structure imme
nse enough to do t
he job of holding th
e legacy the xtrava
ganzas left for us We
take the challe
nge To heart We gi
ve ourselves a plac
e to mourn Empty
graves are still gra
ves to tend We hav
e no leaders they w
ere all killed We ha
ve exploitative doc
umentaries produc
ed by white women
with something to
prove We have wha
t little a google sea
rch can restore to u
s No way to bring t
hem back We can c
hant and chant We
will will them back
& be here to greet

Paris is burning &
queens are dying st
ill I’m afraid of bei
ng killed If i’m hon
est i’ve been afraid
of being killed ever
since i realized i ha
ve a target on my b
ack Do you see it?

When i was a little
girl i learned to ext
inguish the urge to
say anything out lo
ud for people to he
ar This is wrong thi
s is wrong so wron
g so fucking wrong
i’d yell inside my
girl head for only me

All the jotxs that di
ed for this will nev
er be here to experi
ence it They’re d
ead Were killed Th
ey, honestly, didn’t
even die for this Th
ey just died & now
there is a this they
missed out on All t
he jotxs that died f
or this, i hope they
were able to imagi
ne it And i hope we
have imagined the
m with us as best we
can But who kn
ows They’re dead &
they died Nuestr
xs abuelxs don’t ev
en know our name
s Or that we exist I
imagine one day w
will meet, say mira
lo que nos dejaste fue magia o la sciencia o el poder de los jotxs pero si, aqui estas

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