Jonathan Price

A psalm of rage and lament to the tune of black women’s tears.

This won’t be the last time a black person has to tell the world that they have been trained to demonize black men.
This won’t be the last time I get a call, and email, a text message, telling me that another beautiful black person has been violently penetrated by the penile surrogate bullets of policing forces.
This will not be the last time that some will fall prey to the temptation of explaining how this precious one was worthy, as though there were circumstances or character flaws for which extra- judicial killing in the street was acceptable.
This won’t be the last time I worry for myself and my brother and my nephews and my father.
This won’t be the last time because America is a white supremacist society demonically committed to living out the white supremacist principles of its founders.
This won’t be the last time because policing is a corrupt and corrupting enterprise rooted in the constructed mercenary need to control the liberty and mobility of Black people.
This won’t be the last time because painting Black Lives Matter in end zones and intersections won’t change a damn thing.
This won’t be the last time because the commercialized co-option of Black Lives Matter is a calculated justice-avoidance strategy.
This won’t be the last time because cities and their politicians are not willing to do the hard work of breaking the police union contracts that provide them with unequal protections under the law.
This won’t be the last time because the simultaneous demonizing and fetishizing of Black folk is mother’s milk in this country.
This won’t be the last time because nothing has changed.
This won’t be the last time.