Wednesday, October 14, 2009

The Day in Cobalt 2 (poem)

We are fixed
within and without
of ourselves!

The Days compile and split
like lips
with blood
and clinging.

To be black
and scary
is hyper sensitive

Look out for the killer
power trip in your pants.
Can you lead a game
in death
and slave trade wardrobes?

Chicago, 2009

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