I’m going to let this one speak for itself:
with dancing feet and watermelon wings
i bring the sunshine and the moon
and the wind blows my tune
…meanwhilei spoon powdered drum beats into plastic bags
sellin’ kilos of kente scag
takin’ drags off of collards and cornbread
free-basing through saxophones and flutes like mad
the high notes make me space float
i be exhalin’ in rings that circle Saturn
leavin’ stains in my veins in astrological patterns
Dogon’ n****s plotted shit, lovely
but the Feds are also plottin’ me
they’re tryin’ to imprison my astrology
to put my stars behind bars
my stars in stripes
using blood splattered banners
as nationalist kites
but i control the wind
that’s why they call it the hawk
son of isis
son of osiris
worshiped as jesus
resurrected like lazarus
but you can call me lazzie
lazy
yeah i’m lazy
cause i’d rather sit and build
than work and plow a field
your evolution stopped
with the evolution of your technology
a society of automatic tellers
and money machines
n**** what?
my culture is lima beans
This book is for all those who think rap is poetry, who love the rhythm and sounds of language as much as what is being said, and who wants to read poetry that will leave you sitting staring off into space for quite some time after each poem.
