Seven Meditations on Black Dance

1. 

The sad swan mounted on a lion blind to her glory suddenly released to it / thinking 

You have an obligation    to treat the body like part of your personality    to let it grieve and celebrate with you     Your beauty is a duty like every (other) motherhood   to be the belle heaving her hips to the rhythm of every trauma narrative parodied by silence    dialed toward new birth   shy hybrid turned pure on the high 

That's black dance that's 

Diasporic Consciousness        A way of overcoming  

severance 

2. 

How could the ganja flow from his hair like ideas in flight   and  every idea you have is an idea of yourself    and the movement skries and scurries by  bye blackbird   until   that mexican man with the grocery cart full of empty bottles that toll like holy bells, his swollen bliss, he just looked up from his bounty to meow at me  all literal    coward    These leaps   the wide diagonal between one foot and the other in an air steep with my impeccable will power    the muse is too bouncy to be the mute also  and territory has found a way to rove like perfect barricades to intimacy      I begin to re-enact forgetting   remove my clothing  in the wings / put on a space suit and patrol the stage for true ships        

my favorite disarray is truth  is,     look how it bides its temple looking for visitors and finds another feral      kinda    I'm black as time   thing    refusing  kind

3. 

There are slaves in those ships   I found      not those ships    too      I gathered a team of so brave lack men        men are the ones  that matter most to me ever since the first one disappeared  senseless    promises    and tame ultimatums   that one day  everyone was implicated       I   learned prison is outsourced slavery   or resourced, they have men  in there milking goats to sell at the fanciest stores   and I keep those stores in business with my fancy tastes and I keep the prisons in business with all my brave  and obedient father figures bent over the utters of some spurned livestock   or blockade gotta be free drum haven    the shocking work come song and dance   all of us kneeled in prayer as if looking there  /  one by one we tremble and trample one another and turn into water / lust   I waited at the door for him to reappear       Here he is now panicking at all his power  rubbing the eyes of the story looking for stylized recognition      my urgent tenderness slows down to brace a clan 

4.  

Should I spend all night listening to Horace Silver play doors with the cosmos. Shivering on the pillow of this book about plant alchemy / script for the domestic nook in me / I call that man a preacher / he crawls back into the afterlife / satisfied / might return rich and white / might return beautiful and black again with eleven layers of his / mined / stacked in a drumline like a library of magic mimic men /  you should look him up  / even his mugshot is drastically sensitive   even   when he was locked up  he acted  all   who watches the watchers, paced the yard for dealers     found me a mirror   ya'll  found me a tall clear minded saint and left him in the new world to ball out like a caucus girl    cause I'm generous like that 

5. 

Another nobel sugar      It's innocence gives us dignity     Another mesmerizing nigga interrupting the love scene to say  when doves cry   it's rage that causes that     it's rage that has us     this gorgeous   adagio    I don't  know how many more events   can be lodged in the heart like paternal    charters  murmuring    local      far           the truth is larger than Hollywood and    braver than forever   ours     is    just lazy    like nature    perfect and no need to announce it  except as a pace    or  good ass town   to be in   and out of   

6. 

This is Venus    in the   hood.   Not the tennis star   ,  the planet /  the     black queen of the Andes who invented the family of superlatives   love calls love.   Love calls    love calls   all day     love keeps calling.    The stage is breaking under me and this is the meaning of flight   or just another magic    act   like you   know         

               how to plan a divorce when you barely even met the man      just yesterday   as he pulled his tantrum gun    to shine the tree of life   like a massa's glass shoe / that gesture is a mirror factory    too     many     mirrors    make a black   dream    blind       fold     not never    no surrender but a    new and improved rendition of surrey with a fringe   on top 

7.   

We located the word trajectory and bottled it, brought Hennessy on stage and  our favorite  lock step jump rope move real paid to say we drink this shit  but the   props got invisible as power   and     good  jobs.     Good job, man.     I mean     I wanted to move my body  of  flutes     inside of  a   peaceful diamond and do drunkeness parttime   lover  shit    I still want it, too.    I heard in east LA the old buildings are sinking   into   Harlem and the pressure on the earth is causing       the people living in them   to    mention the afterlife like an action / more than once a day  / sad exercise like pedaling   and it all becomes  a euphemism    for the do   nothing way    even jazz can't save  a Capitalist from the      sentient materialism we call   somebodiness   and  life         These people think pain is  noble       their bodies  learn to believe the lies their minds   repeat  over and over     for generations /   and then one   day Josephine Baker turns into     statue      and they ship her off to Georgia and the rugged shame of idols    turns our consciousness     idle   while    somewhere in Chicago  an circle of devoted    feet slope airward   in the malted   paragon       of honest rewards    I   unplug all the machines  starting with the    ugly      clean ones that keep us inside shrugging   single file        we  be still    in the   love   call   we be still   in the love   call   

we be still   still all out there   calling /  still      

Do I move you   Are you willing

The blue wavelength is only so vast

Primal rhymes

Mostly on tv the lion ate the hyenas but sometimes the hyenas formed a posse and tore the lion up. 

and an anemic plan to save the music by stealing it got us this fit of camels tucked into a scam horizon

My phone turns Nefertiti into Jefferson automatically and my new mind is never baffled by the absence of black saviors today, busy with broken names

Just to hear the wild ox moan

Everything but the interlude is useless the space between your thoughts disproves disillusionment except when he promises I'm just another crazy nigga and all those years flash by like a basket of false teeth left in the sun to flower I never wanted to be your housewife wildlife by Tony Williams bright survival of the desperately functional heraldic no wonder I'm suddenly throwing darts at the corkboard all I plan is my escape and all that is is a pace fast as the radiant light I is always I waited and waited because the safety of disappointment felt patient to cling to medical how we all balled out over the tantra looking for someone to cuddle or fuck must have fallen in love with a slave who got sold off to a different plantation one day in the tempting futuristic past we kinda miss masters of the trauma tabloid that line was so cold that primal cold there's a total arrogance to succumbing to your original hunger and that's the sunny blindness I'm about