Decadent with intention and horsemen sanity will be an omen when it comes
The broken fever that lasts forever will be an oath of participation
And the rebellious heart would rather be crazy than accomplice
The slaves are crazy they halve their fists into these knives turn the nave
And the whole congregation into tomorrow’s food say massacre is sacred and earlier you said this
I mean had the tables turned flipped over
I mean if the great paintings of the holy feasts we me were Maafa you would
witness the clear luck we crave beginning in your erasure from memory
And so she went on determined to forget the danger, onward, knives for fingers
To chop the range of crop like a lobbyist I’ll trade you this hallucinating plant for first dibs
On sabotage
The sabot is a peasant shoe (hear the show in the robot, the sad oath of signifiers) and I’ll trade you for two show shoes in which I do this switching and running through this forest it gets vivid
The sabot is also a device that ensures the correct positioning of a bullet in the barrel of a gun So to come in my shooting shoes I will be traded or killed by you or running these choices thrill me, throw me for a loop? As in lasso I’m so tied and up in these choices I look like a pretty number 8 don’t I look infinite innit?
The sabot is also a box from which casino cards are dealt
The common thread between these objects arrives at the walking loudly that makes the intended meaning of sabotage and the slaves are crazy we thank your fake god and walk as loud as possible in our crowded wooden clogs in gunning gambling feet you leave Maafa no choice but sabotage which is suddenly a feasting festive word for black progress for a deck of blank cards some shoes and some blushing bullets
