the alligator: poverty and anticapitalism

I’m a cyclist because I am an anti-capitalist (Lugo).

I’m an anti capitalist because of the crippling poverty I grew up with/still struggle to stay ahead of.

I am impoverished because I am of a class of “low-whites” used to maintain and uphold the values of white supremacy. (Wilkinson, ch. 11) I choose anti-capitalism/anti-racism in the face of this design.

This “low-white” status affords me one gift (aside from the very white privilege my class was kept indignantly poor to uphold) on which I rely. Physicality (read: blue collar callused hands)

I come from working stock (cyclist).

I am a painter because what is painting but recording a physical movement.

Sure, in the end that movement represents an image (of cycling, or confronting “low-white”) but it’s only a recording of this very embodied practice (a symptom of poverty). In this way dishes can be a painting too (recording my efforts and producing an object).

My work relies on biblical references (read: southern gothic). Placated hard working angry (at the wrong people) southern white-trash praising the Lord for another day of labour. Like me.

“God” (the southern one or otherwise) is a beautiful way to think of oneself as a part of everything — my bones are made of the stars, and consequently the same matter as paper fliers and the garbage turtles choke on in the ocean (the very ocean that lives in my florid-foundland narrative).

Glory be to garbage (second-hand in that there is a proverbial hand to be held from having already been held). (I’m citing myself here).

Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Just happy to be here. (Read: Amen.)

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