Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Unity of the Hero, (1) Desdemona's Testimony

I cast a sidelong glance at myself  / all panic mutters  like mantra  butterfly 
                        and takes cover in  the  soft melancholy   of rewilding instincts    /  reluctant  

to admit  your silence will not protect   you      the shouting grows simple      and pulses   with the estate  stamped  slow red   

you get a percentage      you get to detonate    you save your tone   

hide your tone                 learn     to trust crazy better than safe         and neither    can face the other and                                      unchange 

Is it daddy left home or 

                      daddy went   home   

When daddy came home,  we'd been practicing for so long we lost track  of verbs  and Afrofuturism  became  another social narcotic   plus the clothing brand I started, slapping faces of dead  jazz on  cotton  and sold out in Tokyo