Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Is this some kinda hustle?

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    

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Resurrection / Black Supremacy (1)

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

Star Killing

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

Wednesday, November 30, 2016