church, skin,
it is
street, sky,
alright
blood, chain,
it is
green earth,
alright,
yeah, alright
ashy knees don't
bend em
for nobody
ain't time,
no,
not fo' nobody,
tell me if you want a
popsicle,
tell me if you
wanna drive
blue rain comes
down in brooklyn
tonight,
we are
alive
and crying,
about something
over somebody
black, blue
black, blue
love, love,
love, love,
love, love,
love
do you
know
how to
play the drums?
do you know
where
your
hands are
from?
and don't worry if you
do
and don't worry if you
don't
the story doesn't end
no sleeping
just learning
how to
breathe again.
YOU ARE READING
american gothic
Poetryhave you ever seen a slave in gold chains? i have never seen so much golden slave flesh melted and turned to candle wax.
