honey
have you lost your mind
or something
this ain’t no place
for a pretty little thang
like you
did you come in here
to drown your sorrows
someone break your heart
well child
the only thing
you’re gonna find in here
is the hard taste of reality
look around you
yes i know
it’s dark in here
so let me point out a few things
see over there in the dark corner of truth
the one without legs
that’s mr. posttraumatic stress disorder himself
and he ain’t talking on no iphone
he’s talking to a dead man
his best high school friend
seems they went to‘nam together
and one of those bamboo trap things
took off most of his friend’s head
fellow died in his arms
been drinking hard ever since
and i hear he does a little weed on the side
but you wouldn’t know ’bout things like that
now would hon’
want a mint
over there is jamal
filling the air
with his acidic breath
was a die-hard liberal
note i said
was
two weeks ago
skin heads on your hilltop campus
beat the shit out of him
now all he talks about
is jihad against the man
see the old fart at the bar
nursing his whiskey
like recalling a lover’s kiss
that’s
the sergeant major
we call him that cuz’
he’s always talking ’bout
the war across the pond
to end all wars
actually honey
all he did was peel potatoes
and do latrine duty
i could go on
but i got to get to work
i’m the entertainment
see the pole over there
so
unless you want to join me
i would suggest that you walk into the light
stare into the bright sunshine of ignorance
and follow the preprogrammed voice of the church
and get your sorry little ass out of here
cuz you ain’t ready for the truth
talking
the gunny sac…
it’s all here
the first time
i was called nigger
and the tears of a four-year old
the lady who
found my deep voice funny
and calling others to listen
and there’s that damn swimming pool
for whites only
they never did figure out
who put the red dye in
some folks just can’t tap dance
and being served last
or not at all
even when your were first
and let’s not forget track
hell…
let’s do
and here’s that 54 buick with overdrive
that took us roller skating
where anyone could be a star
(with the right moves)
and rev. brown…
how he tried to save my soul
but he was heaven bound
before i could make up my mind
(oh…but when i did)
i joined the choir
and what a choir
if you can get into heaven
on the amens your singing brings
(then i’m home free)
so rev. brown
don’t you fret
damn here’s my first love
now that…
broke a commandments or two
do you think god understands how stupid
we are with our first love
(i pray he does)
women’s underwear?
yeah…i remember college
once bound so neatly with dreams
now frayed and stained with beer and cigarettes
the seams are busting with memories
writing poems with quincy troupe
drinking with alex haley
black showcase performances
meeting muhammad ali
lovers
friends
and others…
seems impossible
but nothing seems to be lost
oh sure
some things seem out-of-place
but they’re all here
i guess you die when the sac is full
now where can i place
today…
drive time…
the greatest illusion
is that tomorrow
is assured
talking heads
and
headless voices
market this belief
like selling candy bars
with or without almonds
to everyone who will
watch
or
listen
to sugary visions of
no interest
for two years
or
low down payments
for the life of the loan
but loans
don’t have a life
so guess what
you’re on your own
convergence…
come monday…
oh my lord what a sermon
oh…my lord
what a sermon
oh my lord
what…
a sermon
rev jones moaned and groaned
and moaned and groaned
so loud
that even deacon smith
shouted like he believed in god
and child let me tell you this
sister bates started waving her hands
like she thought she was separating the red sea itself
then she took to talking in tongues
her voice just seemed to fill the church
honey we couldn’t even hear aunt liz’s solo
which may be why she got so loud
lord knows you can’t have pastor notice no
one but her
then of course there was us…
sitting in the back of the church
we were busy counting the lights in the ceiling
and wondering why
the holy ghost didn’t just come and stop all this
cause we all knew come monday…
no one would remember a thing…
the meeting…
it seems so strange meeting you this way
after so many years
how we boasted about the future
and what it would bring
but now
it all seems so irrelevant
and fragmented
i’m very happy you know
me?
sure
i’m successful
i have a home
new car
and loads of friends
what else coul a man want
i have a lovely wife
and the bar i built is something else
sure i’m happy
no i didn’t remember that
i had said that
seems strange that
i would have forgotten
something like that
well
it really doesn’t matter
look at all that i have
i told you that i was happy already
why don’t you just give me a break
i hate taking to myself
it seems so difficult to remember
how to define oneself
in terms of yesterday’s dreams.