Be now. Be here…

Ima walking superpower.

That which transfixes me becomes putty in the transom of epistemology.

Hallowed ground burials are a thing of the past.

Everything I was told as a child turned out a lie. Our parents deliver death. Our leaders add self-interest in new time dash.

A ruse cooked up to miseducated me, so I’d be chillin’ with the devil.

Ima grunt for the bone man. The bone man’s blues be coming this way.

I had a rumbling in my stomach and felt the deafening borborygmus ofda earth.

We festoon the planet with hate and breathe a virulence of violence. We gotta killing we ain’t never seen before.

Callitda bill collector blues callit hippy sigh on nippy shine.

How do a dog wax poetic wit’da poetics of ruin?

Be now. Be here…

But I wonder where the sallow in the bowels of hell appear next if I’m writing this from the cellar of the master slayer of dummy men.

Men that want what I haven’t got.

What u gonna do next?

“But the white people who saw this as their country—and only theirs—to run are right in one key way: their time is running out. They are not literally threatened by violence, much, but they are threatened by something much more powerful, a revision of who matters and who will run things in the future, which is why BLACK LIVES MATTER is the central affirmation.”

— Rebecca Solnit / “Chrome-Plated Pistols and Pink Polos: The Face of Elite Panic in the USA”