Poems For The Proletariat, Vol. 1
Happy May Day, Comrades
Today is International Workers’ Day, or May Day as it’s colloquially known as. This day is meant to recognize and honor the laborers who make our world go round, yet often go unsung. Let’s have a brief history lesson shall we?
On May 4th, 1886, an event known as the Haymarket Square Riot occurred in Chicago, Illinois. Chicago has such has a deep, rich history of worker’s rights movements that would later spark change across the entire world, but this particular incident essentially serves as ground zero. To make a long story short, industrial workers— a great number of them being Eastern European immigrants— planned a general strike against the 60 hour work week that was the norm at the time, in favor of the 40 hour work week/8 hour work day that is the standard for today.
What started off a peaceful rally of what some estimates say included up to 3,000 workers ended in bloodshed as police forces arrived en masse to break up the rally. There is no official confirmation as to whether who fired the first rounds, although there are reports of officers firing at unarmed workers simply trying to flee from harm’s way. The incident lasted all of five minutes, but it was enough to leave about 70 workers wounded, and four dead. The police force suffered seven deaths from a homemade pipe-bomb explosion that was thrown by an unknown person at the start of the initial massacre.
In recognition of this tragic historical event, May 1st was the day selected by the Second International organization, a group comprised of socialists and other pro-labor parties, back in 1889. In 2022, the spirit of those Haymarket workers is still alive and well, as across the country we’ve seen monumental union victories against notoriously anti-union corporations and billionaire owners such as Amazon, Starbucks, and the Chicago Reader, an alternative newspaper here in the birthplace of labor unions.
In recognition of this day, I was inspired to write a few poems in solidarity of all my proletarian comrades across the globe working to build a better tomorrow in the face of imperialism and oligarchy. For when the workers of the world unite, we have nothing to lose but our chains.
$25 (How much a dollar cost pt. 2)
25 Dollars That’s how much it costs To reserve a bed In a Homeless Shelter You probably thought That shit was free I know this cuz I’ve spoken to a couple men One was selling Streetwise magazines I was gonna give him a fiver But then he said “All I need Is 25 Dollars And I can sleep At the shelter tonight” Another time I was about to board the blue line At Damen & Milwaukee When I saw a man Digging through A trash can for food. I offered To buy him a meal To which He accepted Then he said “By any chance You got $25 dollars on you? That’s how much I need To sleep at the shelter tonight” I walk in downtown and see People sleeping On the streets In rail cars And park benches You think more than 25 People With singles Just walked passed them Before giving that bread To a billionaire?
I Hate Award Shows
Every year Around the same time Rich people Get out from their bubbles And celebrate Themselves In grandeur and Decadence Every year Around the same time I see People who These celebrities Will piss on Celebrate the pedestals Of their false idols Where are the award shows For the workers Who make such these award shows Even possible?
Untitled poem about Puerto Rico
I’m a descendant Of anti-imperialists From Tainos defending their land To Young Lords marching the streets Since 1492 My people have never known Freedom Only Free-doom As Gil-Scott Heron Would say We speak Spanish Cuz that was what Los Conquistadores Forced on us Other than Themselves Then Lady Liberty Came To enslave us After a custody battle With Spain They tried to ban Our Flags Making a law in an attempt to make us gag That shit just made us wave La bandera obnoxiously In their face Til this day They give tax breaks To capitalists To build their resorts And gentrify the island Natives are faced with two choices Either abandon everything and leave for the states Or stay and suffer With no power Schools closing Hospitals on the brink While free trade zealots And Crypto-colonizers Live in mansions Provided by a government That we had no voice In choosing This is why I don’t really Give a fuck About your vacation getaway When this luxury Is only afforded at the cost Of a people’s inability To getaway From the suffering Respectfully Those who Inherited the spirit of Don Pedro Albizu Campos And Lolita Lebron Stay and endure The hurricane Because they know That giving up Is what they want So we organize Instead
If you enjoyed these poems and/or want to learn more about the history of labor movements, check out Haymarket Books.
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