Unmanifesto: Notes on Post-postcolonialism (a 3rd Draft in CP Time)

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Yes, actually this is
another poem about race. (Maybe they all
are. (This time, the arrival ritual
is metaphor; next time, a primate; then, a grass
hut. Anything to show how natural
I am. (But hasn’t my nature
always been the problem? (Am I being
too prosaic? (Is my directness
unsettling?))))) Try unsettling

America. Humor me. Start with Hawaii
& Alaska. Unmanifest
these destinies: Undo the Sioux,
the Iroquois, the Trail of Tears. Undo
me—each shackle. (Hint:
My grinning is not a sign
I’m into bondage.) Undo amber waves
of grain (I mean
the song) & the transcontinental
train, track upon track, each
railroad tie back to free

labor—Chinese, Chicano & other-
wise. Undo sands
across deserts. Undo ours
& centuries. (But who can undo
when bound by Time’s
linear contract? (which I am now

breaking.)) Undo the starless
Black futures of your science
fictions. Undo Blacklessness
on the Jetsons. Undo 3rd
World. Undo un-
namings of Kunta & Biafra. Undo
uncivilized. (No, I mean
the concept.) Undo
these undoings: Navajo,
Inca, Aztec. Backtrack
across the Atlantic to the Gold

Coast. Let us critique you,
weigh you: Determine whether you’re real
art.