I.
i've buried my rusty hatchet blade in the plush paralysis of the bourgeoisie
i am sleeping with your daughters
i am sleeping with your sons
i am at your stoop with my coat of coarse wool and crude jokes
using your hairbrush
drinking your cokes
pressing your clean towels to my lips
inhaling deeply
standing in front of the open fridge
wide eyed, with outstretched palms facing zeus
o, blithe hospitality,
i will suck your teets dry
II.
shoved out of the womb, choking on my first gasping breath of air
cut the chord and tie me up with the knots of an able bodied sea man,
my naked body swaying on the mast
like christ on calvary
like strange fruit on holiday
cut me down
chew me up
spit me out
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