Jim Jones crying under the watchful eyes of funk flex dressed like a bootleg pirate king from the 80s
Jim Jones
cryin under the light of
the wolf,
the worm, earth, mother, grandmother
Bitch
In the half shadow of saturday mornings when your mama was crying in the kitchen
under the cover of innocence
Jimmy’s
what you call
your lover
Your little cousin whos
a little off
your mixed little brother playing pontiantic dreams in the scrap yards of philly ;
With the letterings of letters
not yet ready to be born birds.
_____________________________
Jimmy
is cryin
under
the sign
of the
star and shield
Aruba-to Atlantis
the lost kingdom drowned between-
the foruscent lighting of
Funk Flex’s midtown studio
is simply wormholes and graveyards.
trainyards, undoing only to achieve prized becoming, mourning-death.
__________________
This is how we’ve always
flexed…
survival, the shuntering towards a failed kingdom or an abyss
The hostile swagger when you spit in the face of the apocalypse or a genocide; the feeling I had the first time I fell in love with a man. I was eleven and it was through the television. Denzil was hard and soft and I didnt know that was allowed.
(
)
(
)
The feeling
Of
sinking
The ridiculous and
messy; the slow drip into
The other
(read either)
preening sighing,
emotional wallops
and manly grins
as if
somehow
through it all
Funk Flex was transference
Me—-to —you
jim-to-Jimmy
To Jimmy’s grandma-
To an old woman
singing parimendou
(and all at once-
lightning strikes a plantation-
blind dogs scrape their way through continents and still find
home.
-a bridge is a back)
We made
it ;
because our mothers made us,
tears that are
A tri-gerantional
blood price
——
And
with a different set of office furniture,
Funk Flex really could be
your low rent welfare
therapist, who doesn’t really
care, but’s alright,
I guess
Bosompra (tough/strong/firm)
Bosomtwe (humane/kind/empathetic)
Bosompo/Bosomketaa (brave/proud/courageous)
Bosmmuru (Respectable/distinguished)
Bosomkonsi (the virtuoso)
Bosomdwerode (the eccentric/jittery)
Bosayensu (The truculent)
Bosomika (the fastidious)
Bosomafram ( the chiraous)
Bosomafram (the liberal/kind/empathetic)
Bosomafi (the chaste)
The Ntoro
Is the spirit of the Askan children who have yet to come into
their becoming
——-
And what are rappers but
lost boys
leading other lost
Boys
Into a wilderness, out of another one,
into burning trestles in an arabian night
a maze through a mass grave
without bread crumbs to lead
You home.
***
Showing Feet at the pray haus
Time
eats the wormhole
one day a stockade in Charleston, Louisiana Sun
death wades the long meadows that
ache southern sin crushed ankle +
ruptured bloodlines And then, just as suddenly
as a rapture, Hell comes hurling with US
Cleveland too true North
religious forest fires
heavens harvest frost and Iron ore
there you go- towards
Apocalypse .
Your People are dying!
Denmark
the walls of the celestial city
pulsate red stone and manure with limp
black bodies and
the carved thighs of the natives.
YAHWEL/
WAKE UP!
Cant you smell the tire salesmen skirting over the Berkshire smog
musk under bugler tongue?
Nervous
light
rough shot through
an ocean smile
and imperial forests-
textbook nature &
gods dubious
wealth among
the gazebo earth
A white maroon,
so much so that upon
setting eyes to the moist baby puke hills
uttered:
‘NEW ENGLAND’
9/4/2021
shaker forge
Mt. Lebanon NY
