Black Outside

 

Were you silent or were you Malcolm X?

 

Y'all ain't ready

 

 

For whom

 

https://afrosonics.tumblr.com/post/611471461190959104/but-many-of-us-feel-that-since-we

 

Maafa, I don't know

The bloated yellow roar   of near bones      

Some    stellar   erosion       makes a human         body but I feel   closest   

To  home   in the    digging even   with the walls    around it like jail 

The    school   centers early     gardens romance        Slave named Adam       

   Billie’s      limp gardenia      Facile confirmations     like Eve was a black      serpent    

and  she   used her    teeth to sing              there was no chewing no tone    scar of hunger     

Whatever     you accuse          her of tasting       she was just telling you    its name     

My   name   is Maafa     and I spit       star guts at the     craft of ease   

I own everything          my knees are in  this mud stewing it   to charter searching   

For the    mineral they      are tender   circles of blame       give our creation story   

The   range   of a   jaded spring        clapping its bounty     down      

Show 'em

Maafa's Good Diction

I could be that  believable gypsy   in a ski mask     they call me a       secret so I sing in the   cut   

        The  rubber   gesture   guts guesses     at what it is   coming through the   sound      

                                                                                                                                                                I'M SCREAMING        

 a confession     of laughter through    suffering an African proverb   thing I mean turning intensity  against itself as a mode of   assimilation has its own language   good   diction     I’ll  always  miss Malcolm    stay on topic     we were talking about   Black hypocrites invisible  hypocrisy like Blackness like   that small plaintiff nudge like   backstage ugly neon gutter rider     sweat hugging the blue lit rafters and    you laughed to keep from screaming skimmed    the air for amphetamines it’s crazy to know how   to say anything to make anything meaningful/sinful  soulful kinfolk as it is this tenderness in    me is razor scores carved into the concrete tunnel    between Angela and Fred Hampton The interviewer asks are   you in love   with him      and    she cannot    even be bashful     anymore or caveat   to revolution his     corpse at the window     dancing peeping clinging     clamouring her screams the supple   smell of before rain is dwelling     on the Black song asking it back to      itself she just sat there in the dark room   under the grey mushrooming spotlight and giggled in   that direct shrill pitch she could never disguise not    beneath afros not beneath straight perms or braids or   rage or dread or origin fading into war grin I'M  SCREAMING    she    answered                    and       they enter     that silence       together

Blue velvet, and silver

What you won't do

Maafa's Constellation

A new spelling of my name

Maafa’s Interanimation

I love my lion   into low limbs      a lean can   see why the nursery rhymes for lynching begin in his mouth    and meth don’t shout teeth black with   reluctance to shine come shine     

My  lions   are shiny      hind and shins      the heel meets the perineum    and clears the mind or something        now I’m thinking about irons   and my wrists itch of flood of sculpted     air and errance the itch of ache to be    dancing           

          Monsters      in every myth      are the hungry beast   cuddling with hunger   please don’t be hunger         don’t be her   

Be    the   words go     back sleep       tattooed      on that star    as spell but   also arbor arbitrary   hellfire we’re writing      hell’s obituary deleting the       delta in our elbow boats   

Where you gon’ go?   

Are you afraid of where this song is going     as you so lonely ride it

The beautiful and omnipresent love