Am I Not Human?
As you’ll note in an earlier post, I encountered Amazon.com’s racist search engine. Well, it got me thinking. Since alerting the community; having Amazon call me and sending a follow-up email to the company’s customer service, we’ve made the tiniest progress.
Now, it seems that all a searcher has to do is request “Arab terrorist costumes” in order to get costumes which imitate traditional Arabic clothing. This is still unacceptable to me. However, at least the search no longer yields links to pictures of Barack Obama. In this one small correction, I am satisfied. But, I’m really not.
I have this taste in my mouth.
It is maybe the flavour of:
rancid fruit, pickled
lynching remains served
58 years later at a BBQ
whose kindling was made
from archival lynching postcards;
blood on an arm after scratching
a new mosquito bite; scabbed
by dust from a global Trail
of Tears to Al Shifa
bombed. I might add
pustules - poorly lanced
diplomatic ooze;
or starving bloated
aneurysms of wrong action
silently exploding. and in
my mouth - twitching pointing
rage fingers swabbing
my dna screeching
different bad different bad;
acidic adrenaline sweat
after scenting the smoke
of supremacy; the vitriolic spit
of old White women
at Palin rallies.
by most accounts
I am not human
but will give candy to
Indians, ghosts, demons and Arabs
on Halloween.
More about the "Am I Not Humans?" blogging campaign here:
Now, it seems that all a searcher has to do is request “Arab terrorist costumes” in order to get costumes which imitate traditional Arabic clothing. This is still unacceptable to me. However, at least the search no longer yields links to pictures of Barack Obama. In this one small correction, I am satisfied. But, I’m really not.
I have this taste in my mouth.
It is maybe the flavour of:
rancid fruit, pickled
lynching remains served
58 years later at a BBQ
whose kindling was made
from archival lynching postcards;
blood on an arm after scratching
a new mosquito bite; scabbed
by dust from a global Trail
of Tears to Al Shifa
bombed. I might add
pustules - poorly lanced
diplomatic ooze;
or starving bloated
aneurysms of wrong action
silently exploding. and in
my mouth - twitching pointing
rage fingers swabbing
my dna screeching
different bad different bad;
acidic adrenaline sweat
after scenting the smoke
of supremacy; the vitriolic spit
of old White women
at Palin rallies.
by most accounts
I am not human
but will give candy to
Indians, ghosts, demons and Arabs
on Halloween.
More about the "Am I Not Humans?" blogging campaign here:
Comments
Asante sana,
Villager