Bratty Niggas

There’s this  trend   toward   oblivion      and bourgeois   establishment    condescension   paraded around like  a  new fangled  remedy  for   blackness         as     if      to  have  made   it you  have to back sideways into   a  stupor    of  access  and hide from yourself  there          There’s   this    excessively   well  adjusted    affect       to  match          it  questions    nothing     predicts   immunity  to all sorts  of   catastrophes  of which  it is    a   symptom     hunts  for dashikis    to  wear   in the  club    titles   to  rub   the   eyes   with   like poison   ivy      IV  truck outside  after  the  party    Tick  Tock    rubber    meets    Hitchcock  road      leap   from   so   what     to    egypt  strut      amnesia  so  cluttered  it’s   near   remembering       it’s   near  slapping   some   sense    into  the   feigned  contentment   of   derailed    exponents    of   that   dreaded    and  deadening   anointment  men   call   fame      No    name    in  the street     ass niggas      it    lasts     as  long   as  paychecks   in   casinos     it    lasts     as   long    as    the   end  of   the world        You’ll  hear  the  fatalism   twirling    like   spades   in   the    last   lung  of    capital      breathless  with  act     and    cold    as Michael       an  air   of   battered   ego    veiled    by     sailboat   in   the    NASA   greenscreen  moonlight       I  love  you    in spite   of yourself  you’ll      say      as  they   trade   that    in  spite     and  sway   off  the  platform  just   in   time   for   the     train    to mangle   all  their   self-flagellating  elephants    These  suicidal  men   looking    for    respectable   ways   to   die           Looking   like   lies     when  they   shatter            Don’t   let   it   happen  here