And He was asking him, "What is your name?" And he said to Him, "My name is Multitude; for we are many."
« is to survive the White Man with their needles and nooses
and the black men with their hearts in their knuckles »
today I wanted to share some [intervention] poetry with you; I don’t think commentary is required.
image: photo of “Old Sibby Kelly,” born slave, who was a “granny woman” or midwife in Georgia. (Cf. Slavery and Rice Culture in Low Country Georgia, 1750-1860, by Julia Floyd Smith)