anthropologist
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Ain’t No Red Carpet for the Prophet
Revolution sounds pretty. This polished word makes a giddy sound, like raising your first or rubbing your feet together. We quote Martin with a rhythm that swells the chest. Malcolm’s words hum like power. Assata’s taste like survival. Garvey’s tickles the ear. Lumumba’s boom like djembe drums. Angela’s convinces the tongue that it is brave.… Continue reading
