Sing swain in the haunted
trombone of inkheaded loons,
eats away you,

Brother, give chase,
you trip on a bucket of blood: 

of kingdom come, Massa under
my greatgreatgramma’s

Vengeance never sate those
             who crave it, still

I wanna snatch that white child,
             prick him like voodoo 

             carry him
like a basket of reeds on my head
              dangle him
off crag hill for ransom

             But they all get away, scot free,
cane and coattails,

conscience free:
             I toss him free. 


She’s invading my fantasy:

That blond bombshell
of alpine secretions,
octopus twirl in each hole
well throat lubed
oyster-rimmed cob-eatin
squib of pearl

tongue her own nipple,
to the immortal song of disco—

Now doc,
does that make me a dyke?

My body, a sack of live ospreys
lifts a foot in air, crumps back down.

I’m a dust strumpet
dropping fabu track,
dubbing fabu flack,
shoot a clip in the coal-
blooded heart of a rice queen,
thas’ me! 


Lick my bozack, I’m born again black.
You can’t be black, you gotta be hazed
in by centuries of brass-buttoned thugs.
Another day, another trial of a dead
boy in the swamplands of a canned
peach sun and Carib palmettos.

Hack and hunch them bananas, boy!
Cointelpro is that most conspiracies

are true, so doc, just for fun, I’ll
associate back to Dem Ole Plantastic days:
Oh why hullo Massa, is dat a geoduck

in yo pocket or you jes’ happy
to see me, you sick fuck—C’mon now,
look how far we’ve come, biddies
loving some benign black poetry
so write a poem about your culture,
hair for instance, or your daddy,
b’my daddy done left me when I was two!
Hush. I baked a whole head pie.
Have a slice and let’s listen to this lil’
Asian poet crank out a minstrel
of your muscle mirage. Noblesse it please:
I’m Daddy Oroonoko with an ivory
tusk cane, put a ring on it. 

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