behind every toxic man there are…
More toxic men that are even more toxic
HECKLERS in my head!
Please, for the grace of Grandma’s Imagination
Give us a clue into just exactly how long
You plan to interrupt our difficult attempts at thinking clearly?
ASSASSINS in my mind!
Sharpen your blades on my eyelashes
Carve your boulders on my tongues’ tip
Shave your blood diamonds on my jagged indium ribs
Grafitti Big Mamma Thorton & Charlie Patton limericks in my
hickory flesh (Preferably in Arahmaic & Meter Neter)
So, the cruel winds of men’s minds can’t translate my gestures
THE REST IS NOW (Take 22)
Richard Pryor & Richard Wright leisurely lean on
the crumblin’ wall of a burnt-out runaway hideout
Waitin’ for them folks in those badge sheets to
reconsider their DeLorean chariot, illegally parked just in front of them...
Inside it, the Flux Capacitor reads December 31st 1922, Rosewood
A crisp yellow stick-it note hanging underneath the screen reads
“Upgrades are available for Immediate Download”
Wright & Pryor download Northstar GPS & Swift Vehicle Transformers
Soon as they press ACCEPT, their innocuous chariot glitches-into an Onyx Submarine, Pryor coins it, A.A.= Anyanwu Ahab.
Wright answers the blinking alert, “Urgent New Message! New mission!”
“Abort all previous missions- your presence’s required at a demure bugged hotel room in Memphis, united states date-April 3rd, 1968”
Top Secret Inverted Mission [Censored sections]
If ever, you find yourself in InnerCity InnerMind & you have the time
& the Rest Is Now (aREMINDER)
as Eye’m sure you already know...
The New Yin & Yang is
Artificial Intelligence & Artificial Imagination
But what about all of Us from Generation Keep It Real
Who unfortunately fell asleep nestled in that 20th Century V.R. of keepin’ it Violently Real
Having now arose to artificial dreams
Accidently experienced by bulging sacks of benign crystals
Smuggled in by those Boys From Brazil
Killed over by oldtime human traffickers
Whose main product is still real humans
Whose real organs & genes & humiliating murder scenes
Serve as antidotes for ancient royal machines, kept alive by
prehistoric cults, devoted to removing spiritual-bodies from minds stained with newly modified disgrace-
Invert that, then sale souls by the centimeter in international markets at artificial prices
As Brother Tulip out of fluorescent frustration proclaims,
“We all know this ain’t nothin but another poem
Full of artificial conclusions inspired by some artisanal maniacs
Unemployed & refusing to collect anything less than reparations
Always refusing to turn the light on when they brush their bleached teeth,
Can’t bare to see the ivory in their mouths, me neither- Cloak that-
Always refusing to respond to those text messages left on our mirror, every morning after every steamy shower by that silent being who lives
Just on the other-side of our mirrors, rent free & still, complaining.
Speakin’ of money... WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE GREEN MEN
You know the ones= Hulk, Kermit, Yoda, Gumby… The Grinch/ No wonder when Rama, Tara or Osiris, Nephytys, Tehuti or Milarepa finally show up/ Every mirror sustains a jade fog/ until tourmaline eyed, Ivy skin, pine haired, fern breath beings, tuRN UP/ beggin’ for filterless cigarettes rolled with dried mosquito wings laced with dragonfly antenna & caterpillar eyes/ lit by a spark from two black opals struck/ At the speed of prayers chasing the speed of curses into a corn field, where Uncle Michael never sings a single note, ever/ & Aunt Dorothy runs into James Brown runnin’ rhythms with those mad-ass munchkins in Arrondissement Me/ until Langston & Bob turn up with Ai & Lucille on the way to Maya’s, carrying yams meditating in pecan syrup, impeccably gratin’d mississippi mac & cheese & You too, dragging along a red wheel barrow stacked full of Eastern Star quilts sown in that old pre-colonial tradition.”