Aleah Bradshaw "New New"
Aleah Bradshaw "New New" poems stories

Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
Witness the magic of Brave New Voices. Aleah Bradshaw speaks on Blackness, appropriation, white supremacy, death, beauty and re-claiming one's body.

Aleah Bradshaw "New New"

fashion magazine in checkout line say: "______ IS THE NEW BLACK!"

cover shows picture of white girl with black features pages be white with black feature left out this issue

cause, you know, sales were down and white girls rave about it

on their black and white blogs with only white models

And i Wonder how i came to fall so deeply in love with an industry that never quite loved me black

And ain’t it so funny, How black never really go outta style?

How the best accessories be black? like Don’t black just pair well with everything? like:

black stilettos and black lips


black hips and ass on anything except actual black body


black dress and statement headband


black death and statement headline portraying black child as anything but black child


little black boots and cross body bag


little black boy and body bag

body bound forever on black pavement outlined in white chalk

talk about an iconic duo

what matches made in white heaven to be black and on somebody arm or black and on somebody payroll

to be black body in black tie walking round like i might get buried in this

dressed to the 9's like them 9's just might shoot out ballroom and bullet like i might dance myself dead tonight

like this ain't yeezy open season 4 like i might catwalk my way into casket and see my skirt on a white girl tomorrow

blood still on it and everything magazines wondering who wore it best

damn near call white the new black

meanwhile me and the perspicuity of my black ghost

host a fashion show for all us ratchets hood rats and old blacks

who sat back and waited for our insecurities to become fad again waited for the white women to shave their heads and declare the war finally over

as if we didn’t have to be loose curl big afro fist up to be called half the feminist she is

as if any of us got to be both revolutionary and still alive

as if every black god died for white sins only

as if we ain’t ready waiting...

wondering when they'll come running to our graves in the black of night with they knives to carve the culture out us

spread it all over their skin like that new raw shea butter thing just they read about and watch the prices go up and watch how all of a sudden i’m too poor to look like me

so they build a new body out my bones and call this evolution

skin me with surgical knife and say they don’t really believe in blood

don’t see color much

but still somehow know that this particular red,

didn’t you hear?

this red be the new black

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