Amerikkka 

Griffin James

 

America with three Ks in the place of a “c,” 

take a history lesson and learn that the 

greatest acts of terrorism have been homegrown. 

You can’t white-wash your sins away 

when you ran a race on race, 

when you grew a forest 

watered with indigenous blood 

planted on a mass grave,

when you decorated its branches 

with black-bodied ornaments. 

The crucifixion was a lynching 

and you called it holy,  

you called it white christmas, 

you called it white jesus, 

you called it the land of the brave 

because only the brave 

could live in such fear 

of the America you want to make great. 

 

America with three Ks in the place of a “c,” 

your enchanted forest is haunted. 

Ever notice how it’s never a black ghost 

haunting the horror movie? 

Ever notice how it’s not a black colonizer? 

Ever notice how the people who murder 

trans women of color don’t see color 

until it’s a blue – I mean white – I mean blue life? 

But we always knew you meant white.

Our history is a haunting, 

no one’s going to save us. 

We can’t sanctify the soil, 

but we can exorcise our demons. 

 

America with three Ks in the place of a “c,” 

take a history lesson and learn that the

greatest acts of terrorism have been homegrown. 

You reaped a plot of bloodwood trees, 

their branches sway forward,

backward, shadows tracing 

the bruised, lifeless bodies 

fallen to the ground.