Crowd spitting in the wind, fur framed
faces, gold noosed. Reflective
teeth, glint in the eyes, speak the
what is, serious thing with it,
the problem of ignorance, no hands
choke what we hate, hear
the mic echo. Lips in the cloud, forced out,
snake stunner bites the wondrous
steeple, Middle Eastern dance, love it.
Consistent beat of chaos,
no time for breath,
filled with tanned white
faces, belt wrapped around
the arm(cash drug), antennae
rusted and fan twisted in-
to bonsai, paper shredded
with tattered edges of words,
cliché of
spit it, cliché
of
spit this, spit bones, stomach
empty save for the taste of,
hunger, you like? Between fire
and damp concrete smothered in
the blood of hopelessness,
hopeful money spills. Pieces of
what we call “weightiness”
bear on stories innovated
by temptation, a wasted youth
wishes they had time to
have faith. System rotates, rots,
street-breeds shame, plants the rhythm
of a love song with the rhetoric
of sin, blood drip, ours. Picture
tainted and sprayed with street talk,
walled in, pieced apart until
together at opposite
ends, superstar syndrome, risen
then fallen by the popular
vote, American dance, love it.
Global tricks exported from the Unified State
of Americanization. We made it, war
not over yet, war on the wall, spray-
painted continuous stream of anger,
perfume torture, poetic scheme
illustrates the black, tongues
of white toothed politicians. Rain
sweeps from roofs to gutters, and people
live here, people live there. Love
in vain, the paper chase, hustling
seven days for the original,
dream, the name making fortune
and fame, unripe wisdom criss-
crossed over scripture and rock
and roll, hip hop and psalms, the game
infinite. Red blood taken
tentacle to tooth, spit it,
spit it now, take it from
and about, we go.