Tuesday, December 6, 2016
So our god is an all consuming fire and we are its embers burdening the sweet dog's mouth?
Black dna has been changing rapidly since the 90s, and we are evolving?
You've got to have a hellava ego to think that you are harming the planet
the people who study the ancient mysteries know that the earth is heating up to save us and language is a lazy hustler
My words are gonna click again, and scoff and slur into Birdie Africa cohesive again gripping the gnarled root of no more winter and you, baby shy and naked in the yard living on the borrowed sugar of a wrong idea will butter the dragon's mouth We are diamond people now, we who have gone through the milling process of utter hell and come out telling the tiny horse how to escape from time
Saturday, December 3, 2016
The wind blew a chain from spectacle to bait and tackle / are you offended/ Hi(gh), Black you didn't see how that was god's hand coming in to save us? Before the crack addiction and the sex addiction and predilection to sterile suburban forms of barely joy before you became terrified and artless and called that growing up growing into the lie inside you we made a life , I , unlimited vessel, came back to life with the matted brevity of our need How does a woman forgive her partner in genocide / lightly like a soft fake smile on the wobbly edge of well-being or never bye bye blackbird / or never / Howler / how I've become , come to be, all that I've carried run from hung some embryo photo somewhere unsung in the mind that now knows how to chant
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Fight : the gridded spotlight bleach blond weave (again?) miss piggy looking muppet type clutches Lee Morgan cement Sluggish fame machines everywhere touch denial and it's a mall spilling foam made of snow on Los Angeles, say the word bleach with me like leisure, like victorian sleeves ripped in solidarity with Fidel : dare a hero to be a killer for justice, for just surviving cointelpro / leave Lee's blood flowing slow brass levees in the street, Fidel strutting up the heavens. as the bleached sugar rolls into Havana, leave him to teach the hunt to sunny mutants, but bring his name inside To all the women who struggle for a better world, who know revolution is personal and wash and fold the guillitine into the morning coffee like good liars Nobody's messiah is nervous bitter or allegorical AD as Assata crosses the Jersey turnpike , her gun arm steady around american coffin flowers : sweet rebirth , sweet beneath its destiny, marks the profound generosity of decay