Even your witches can't resist me, hunting the laugh out of gravity to gather my murmured, bitch, please
I've been thinking about the way some gay men speak, especially dancing, and certain blacks, that nasty irresistible decadence, really wondering
if oppression is a numb outburst of hoes when the money comes and those shoes in the window locate the toe fat like no house slipper ever slump into a course of ribbon and curses cause the cures hurt
Tricks spill out of their mouths for it and something classic happens
Lee Morgan and Grant Green, Search for the New Land, Stanley Clarke, I wanna play for you, Gino Vanelli, Blue Mitchell, it's rude to know so much, girl
I discover Personism by not sending you this one...
Nevermind, here it comes, alwaysmind, always body and soul
Sometimes the agitation of a jazz hymn is such a haven that my advice to losses/musicmen, is, stay agitated, the rest of the song is counting on you and can't get any higher on somber giddy, haunted, a dazzle of releases that won't get you pregnant or
Working for hire in the forest of motives we invented no where, a terrible pole, cold on her nipple like the green edge of blow
Plato's Symposium corrodes the space around your radio chivalry like a crackling mafia knuckle, next up, you
and your nickel bag of motivation, can't come in tonight. Whisper not.
--
Script for an abandoned set
--
Don’t talk about the whisper of ice on glass at the Vanguard and I won’t talk about your baby moms
(don’t front, I know about you, know about you)
Getting closer to jesus on the tip of our raspy speaker is a mellow guy with me on his arm
Picture of Josephine Baker, fortress
My one and only blind eagle, fortress
Defiance
Fortress
Don’t trip over my shadow and I won’t talk about where you landed in it, cracked this lantern into porches and like a traveling salesman
the ship has a size, prices. My wrist if your thumb is checking--the space between beats it catches me feeling if you don’t talk about building us that swing look up and I’m in it.
The adrenals are shaped like pyramids. Legs out for raid, in for persuasion. The ship has dances. Pushes us once backwards to start us on our journey up the fortress
His promises. Shocking but not pathetic
Fortess
The Okey 8000 series.
Huckleberry Finn is disappearing
Fortress
Hannah Arendt is disappearing
The sign read “divorce, $299,” where am I
Fortress.
It all vanishes, becomes your blurry talking head
Don’t talk about the half of our fathers you buried in those samples and I won’t
talk about the time I caught you walking out of the club with that muppet-looking white girl
eyes bulging when you saw me like I was a 5-0 flashlight.
Fortress.
I can’t get over that.
It was so exactly America that night
I forgot my mother's name that night as I screamed for it
Where am I
Roland Barthes is disappearing into his discourse.
There’s music. We can finally sing about it in the field
