Great flu for some respite from monotony
Indulge myself in pleasantries with pies and familiarities
We sang dirges in the dark
To pagans suckling wolffish teets

You ran a sprang, indulged the nonsense in the fantasy
Wept as fire fanned it’s own flame
Became larger than the poets oft would cry

Shelter me, shelter me!
Helter Skelter zig zagged away
Across the tundra
Of our frozen freedoms
Remained chained to the ground
As though in the inferno itself
Rooted to a spectral home endeared in slavery
Sisyphean solemn old tropes, as tradition goes
White faces marked black in jokes
Funnier when the faces ain’t they own, plastered on pavements upon every corner. Wished for days they didn’t see no dead, walking mystics claimed of new life- without a head, sounded good to ears still on shoulders and on they knees they pray “god dam I mad dog” but have no use for a language that can’t speak loud enough to hear in heaven. Didn’t you hear it? Heaven’s white. It’s all cream puffs and fluffy clouds all pale in comparison to the color of the earth, the sea, the sky, in every hue from his two worlds- to you. Explosion of the black at day, dawn breaks the chains away from padlocked doors and finds a violent mob by every fearful countenance. Ghosts and shadows hiding from the light for when morning comes, the walls will break, the siege o’erdone, and each a life in hand to make or take . So catch us not with temptation to accuse if such acts as these, your mind doth most dote fully abuse, but lay me down a great sensation to enact a counter, with just loving eyes look on’t, redeeming brothers out there, amongst the wild of ourselves the beasts and basely humans , who rage against their every friend and accept the hands’ undoing. This dear, tribe, do I humbly relate, not a moment decry, but March on to shape the lives of others not as one under leaves
But as to give our seal, a promise kept- of a kinder fate.


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