“SAMO© AS AN ALTERNATIVE 2 ‘PLAYING ART’ (INSPIRED BY BARAKA.)”


Let's start off with a dream, the regression of screams that bleed like midnight.
Nigga, Oh, Nigga, who is not a nigga; who art institutionalized,
Who twists your mind? Who killed your pa? Who raped your ma? Who took your peace? 
Brown man, brown woman; Who bombs with your face?
Who took your body? Who got your name?
Kapo, Oh, Kapo; Who set the fires? Who owns the soil? Who started the camps? 
Ask me yesterday, a week ago, now, a year from now, you'll get a different answer,
 I'd give my next paycheck to a psychiatrist who would tell me it's all in my mind.
I, who begged far too much of significance with so little of that needed knowledge of self,
I, who in this life still seek compensation from my xenophobic father, and rapey Uncle Sam,
Sometimes panic a hallucinogen and forget my mouth, tickling a trigger. 
Celestial Chinaman, Yellowman, Yellowman; Who forced war like opium,
Who run the army, Who locked you up?
Ask me yesterday, a week ago, now, a year from now, you'll get a different answer,
 I'd give my next paycheck to a psychiatrist who would tell me it's all in my mind.
Enter the age of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts. If, in the end, there should be a choice;
I, in this life with bullet holes for eyes, shall not walk on fists or forfeit the mouth of my mother,
I shall exist, no mind, no form, a paroxysm of bliss bare, stubborn as a root, 
I will play in the peach, I will call God a nigger, I will Howl, I will Howl, Howl I shall.
I am not afraid of my own absurdity, I shall not fear the baying of time.
 I don't believe I will ever die, I am an ontology. I am Inuit and infinity. 
I am the billowing Majesty of God reaching out to touch Adam, 
I reside within the sanctuary-ecstasy-abode, mute in the core of the Sun.
I barter nothing with time, I don't negotiate with America, I too am America.
I am Jean Michel's Americana, I wear Christ on my skin weeping over Jerusalem,
I feel like a citizen in this cold ass country, I am the spine, I am the tooth, I am hunger. 
 I am my bondage, my freedom, I am black on both sides,
I am Indelible and incandescent, I bleed Basquiats.
By I, I mean we, by we, I mean you, I mean us,
I mean warriors of the moment, with war at our backs.
Fuck the facade of democracy. Fuck censorship. Fuck alternative movements.
Fuck socialism. Fuck colonial church. Fuck neoliberal post-dictatorship. 
Fuck cultural consensus. Fuck tolerance.


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