Looking for a decolonial feminist poetry that’s searing, poignant, and relentlessly provocative?

“I do not want to die with my hands up or my legs open” – Koleka Putuma. This poet is young, South African, and blessed with an elephantine memory. For instance, Putuma remembers how Mandela traded Black liberation via a PR project called the Rainbow Nation (a "rainbow" that seemed to be more vibrant and profitable to white South Africans). Putuma’s poetry shapes gravestones for all apartheid apologists/deniers, racists, rapists, bigots, misogynists, and anything coming for the Black woman. Putuma reads history and the present for filth, and we’re here for every stanza of it.