A poem after seeing 'precious'

It was for us
And by us.
Sold by us.
Promoted by us
financed by us by the richest of the richest of us

& pushed to us:
with visions of gold,
dvd royalties,
netflix & blockbuster dvd rentals dancing in their heads:
depression,
for our entertainment.

We shake our heads
Stepping away from our dinner table
to drive to the theater mall
to see the horror story of people some of us know:
we stand in line to see one of our black girls pregnant for the 2nd time resulting from the rape of her black father
we watch her run down the street with a stolen bucket of fried chicken with her lips and the surrounding areas glistening with chicken grease
before and after getting beaten
by her mother;
we see the mother practically force-feeding
her soul food, telling her
“don’t let it get cold, ‘cause cold-ass pigs feet is nasty”,
Further weighing her down
and we laugh when she laughs or says something funny
and we cry when she cries
watching what was made for us to see.

Once the movie has successfully pressed it’s racial stereotypes further down than any blaxploitation movie has ever done-
The movie is over.
then we shake our heads at this-
yet another negative performance considered Oscar-worthy-
we dry our eyes
and we go home
in anticipation of the next rape of our black women/
                         the next black corrupt cop
                         or the next black  heroine addict
                         on the big screen
--alexgeorge


 where are the oscar-worthy movies featuring positive black role models?