By Michael V. Walker March 2018
As I write and think about Nina Simone, Billie holiday and Abel Meeropol, who are known for their work on strange fruit.
It is the tale of Jim Crow and how our brothers were hanging from trees.
In this post Jim Crow era that I’m raised in, I have bared witness to strange flowers.
The sight of many King’s laying on the ground blasted by the police and not ever hearing another sound.
Their feet not being upright but seen spread out with their souls vertical not ever going to walk again,
I’m talking about this strange flower that is growing out of control in the inner city, it’s normal that the media looks past it because it ain’t so strange,
it’s almost as if they are planting the seed in the minds of everyone to ensure this strange flower never stops growing but becomes part of the journey of every black male’s story.
This strange flower that is so powerful when it’s in its beautiful upright state.
Why must I have to avoid this maze of strange flowers at every turn because i don’t know who’s trying to plant it,
How do I stop the production of the seeds because there is indeed a strange flower that might be named after me…. It grows in concrete, grass, driveways, subway platforms, on playgrounds; I’ve seen it grow inside of a Walmart, and even in our grandma’s backyard
How is that so?
The gardeners are indoctrinated by the years of narrative sabotage to feel they need to produce this strange flower,
The strangest part of all is that in some cases it has been taught to reproduce itself…
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