Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Rollcall / For all we know


The God/ The Source / Nature™


the scholars who learned into junkies


the bigots begged to be cops


the people who watched from the post office


those loud cowards who fought on stages  their tender parade unfists   so bloodless


the day workers who stay for sale


the ones who you sold           mama      they pay   you yet?    Net   netherwold  


R  E P A R A T I O N S


one        repossessed corvette      at a time      Rahsaan's  One  Ton  heckling climbers (social kind)  off    blue       minor    


lost men rolling in the mud   miners   blacker birds/     agents/ fat pillars    Algerias  of the will


desert men rolling on the water  tongues lobbed out as dogs'   soft bob of black sails  


his atlanta now    Atlantis-proud daughters   binding plastic claws to their fingers and slabs of lotion as coarse as seafoam


cream and moans     cream      and   only     you     atonal   newday  homeland                 se cure ity  cured  already    parched flesh and salt  


If you can imagine fleeing to Birmingham


then I can clothe that pregnant mannequin


and my role was to bring the press down,   so that the day would not pass unnoticed   flash


Daddy's distant eyes  the way he hurled that lawnmower   into oj's yard  paid off the nervous bystanders , went back to his nap


from time to time ,  some of our more unruly ancestors were found   floating  face down


there is no refuge from confession but suicide  ,   and suicide is confession


This is a red november


this is no place to sleep


with the liars who bled november


heaping salt into our wounds   


the afternoon swooners shuffling across prison yards looking for anything to lift


their penniless women, free at last/  hissing whore hymns at the catch-all sun   not  him   not him neither      damned   are the


                                            trespassers   fixing to hunt our ledge       

Friday, December 16, 2016

Everything came from sound (light) and it's going back there

That's the only way you're able to store your genetic information

        In between two pillars of light  and carbon       picture a record spinning with your dad's black face all up in the whirlwind       making you a person, a sound  a wedge of noun / Amun / a few minutes of leverage in a dark room and the man could make anything scream with rhythm  :  light    carbon    light carbon  light carbon light carbon       light    carbon  light carbon light carbon   light  carbon light carbon  light carbon  light carbon     light carbon   light carbon  light carbon   light carbon        light carbon  light carbon  light carbon  light       Atkin's ass kinless niggas
                                                                                                       plotting your destruction
                                  like
                                  light
                                  like
                                  light
                                    ice
                                       spun
                                                                              dark in the carburetor     bard in the flame  be our sun

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Monday, December 12, 2016

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Storefront Window

I do revere and love the image I keep learning  not to want. How do I?  Walking by a price tag that reads: this radical loneliness. Have I been invaded for clues into it? Refuse what’s been refused to you. Such that freedom to be a slave is luminous. Emitting light without heat, total efficiency, its gesture being the first flesh computer peddling quecards in the marketplace between exaltation and shame, I let myself derange for a while. Just long enough to play auction block with the bargain shoppers. The first goal of a freed slave is to purchase his children. What if they don’t wanna come. As if self-realization is a threat. As if they are never hungry. Knowing : the subject who was never here can never truly disappear   only haunt.

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