by Caridad Svich
[To listen to a recording of Caridad reading this text, please scroll to the end]
They kill our own.
We kill back.
They kill our own.
We cry.
They kill our own.
We make a sign – all mighty protest.
We beg a lie.
They still kill our own
…
Until we don’t recognize the word,
Until owned is owned by some others
That have owned it way before our time.
Curse huh
…
Killing goes on
And how it goes on
In fields, on streets,
in yards and alleys
High in the mountains,
n down in the dusty stretches of the desert long
it goes on
…
Cos our backs are what?
Our skin is what?
Our faith is…?
…
Take a good look ‘round
Take a long look.
You know
Cos you’ve known it fore,
Been it fore,
Seen it been fore for years
Been, heard, uh
still you cry
still you shout
still the tears fall
Like rain upon the earth
When the killing goes on
How it does
Like a clock
It does
Blood, piss
for years
All ‘round here
Blood, piss,
for years
Hella done
…
And you say,
honour-bound
Can’t be like this
Can’t still be like this
How is this like this
After all we’ve…?
…
Is cos is
Is cos shouts and tears
shouts and fears
Got no use in the world
No use at all
(sometimes)
…
Shouts and tears and killing back
Are lesser tools against a greater is
That is bigger than all this put together
All this uh?
Nothing to them
Nothing to the lot of them
Say made the world.
didn’t even make the clay of it
Shape in their hands
…
When our own are killed
When our own can’t breathe
When our own are nothing but nothing
In the mess of dirt
Spit on them, uh
Spit on all them that say we are lesser-made
For shame
…
scratch the surface.
pick at things like a bird.
mark the wall,
But it gets painted over.
Maybe not now.
But in a few years? Ten? Fifty?
That wall won’t even remember us.
Won’t even know we put our mark there.
Blood on it.
Sacrifice.
For what?
What use can use be put for?
What use has use got
when our words still the air?
What use has use got
When all we can do is swear?
…
Say the uses give our grievance(s) pause.
Say the uses make our complaint(s) rise.
We still gotta get up in the morning,
Pretend we’re reaching for some prize.
N if we’re hurt,
N if we’re hungry
N if the roof over our heads is but a shell
Pray all uses break our backs
Pray all uses split the cracks
Barren concrete at our sides.
…
Lived here once, they will say.
Truly brave, they will cry.
When you are but a speck
Across the great divide.
Caridad Svich is a text-builder and theatre-maker, though most people call her a playwright. She received the 2018 Tanne Foundation Award, 2018 NNPN Rolling World Premiere for Red Bike, and the 2012 OBIE for Lifetime Achievement. Her works are published by Routledge, Intellect UK, Seagull Books, Eyecorner Press, TCG and more. Her first feature film Fugitive Dreams, based on her play, is in post-production for a late 2019 release. Her play Town Hall was recently seen in the Calm Down Dear Festival at Camden People’s Theatre, London, in a works-in-progress showing.
Something Other 