why all this sex shit all this ass shit

all this breast shit all this leg shit

all this thigh shit

all this let-me-suck-your-tongue shit

i want some good shit

some talk-all-night shit

some learn-from-each-other shit some teach-each-other shit

not the sex-only shit

i want the shit

where you can sit around and relax shit real shit

like my poetry shit

good ole chilling-on-a-friday-night shit a relationship where i can say shit

just plain ole shit, like

honey, i had a bad day shit

honey, i hit the car shit

honey, i got fired shit

that good old, pure

not only sex looking-for-my-nut-2-bust shit i love u for your spirit and mind shit

the body 2, shit

the black-on-black dark as chocolate shit.

there will always be the need for one more poem 2 describe how i feel

catch the word before it changes its clothes

and transforms into a new set

i must create new words 2 equal my pain

i tried 2 close the book

but my poems become like the world’s sins and they sit down in filth and multiply surround me, cause me 2 question my words

one poem asked, “why are you so in love with pain?” i answered, “pain is someone i have known

since i was conceived,

my mother’s pain grew in me and became strong,

i must write what i know”

a deep long dark poem asked me, “why don’t you conceal your pain and make your people smile?” the child is scared of the truth when it plays with the wrong side the truth must be spoken

even when it takes on a ugly form

it is simply the job of the artist to strangle the question until it bleeds the answer

my poems think 4 themselves and ask a final question, “will we be made 2 smile one day?”

i answer,

“when the world becomes like poetry naked and pure

when we look into our hearts

and discuss our fears like children, then you will smile”

my poems understand

and go into the world to find a sad soul 2 read them and question the world.

pants sagging 40 drinking woman loving

oh, excuse me

i’m a nigger

a nigger from the blvd

i’m from the hell you never walk thru

i’m the nigger who sends chills thru your spine

i’m the nigger you would not sit next 2 on the F train the nigger who makes you

turn your head back when you walk

you stop and let me pass

yes, i’m that nigger

i’m the nigger who embarrasses you

in front of your white lover

i’m the nigger your friends ask questions about

i’m the pusher

the pimp

the stick up kid

any other bullshit stereotype you want 2 pin up on me i’m the nigger you blame your laziness on

i’m the great fuck up

the one who always gets the cracker off the hook

i’m the one who trips ‘cause u never taught me the traps u curse and never forgive

look, look, i’m super nigger destroying Amerikka captured by the good never-did-nothing cracker

led away on the 6 o’clock news

home sweet home

i’m the nigger you told

there ain’t no death penalty in new York

but every time i get shot down

you march for 2 days and forget

cursed by ham, evolved from monkeys the nigger who, if i died,

all of Amerikkka’s problems would die i’m the nigger the bible talks about

the one who’s gonna burn in hell forever when your off in milk and honey

the nigger you wish would die

i’m the nigger you talk ‘bout on tv

the funny thing is

if you sat and talked 2 me

you would see i’m afrikan all the way thru

if you were not scared of me

you could really love me

but since you judge with your eyes, i’m a nigger a nigger who never slapped a sister

a nigger who never killed a brother

a nigger who never raised my voice 2 an elder

i’m the nigger who,

if your punk ass was getting fuck up on the number 2 train

as everyone turned their heads,

i would die 4 you,

i would die for my people if i had 2

but you can’t see that

4 most of you

if you don’t see a Afrikan dressed as a cracker

or a kente cloth intellectual

he just a nigger

all the books i read, poems i wrote

all the shit i done don’t mean shit

when the cracker puts my face on the 6 o’clock news

oh, he’s a drug user

i go from the innocent youth shot down by pigs

2 a nigger for life

because all black youth that choose 2 be them self and not a cracker definition of a man

are just niggers 2 u

so i’ll be a nigger

a nigger from the blvd.

i bring such pain

widow’s blood

i’m the one you wish would die

under your breath

switch the channels

go 2 the blvd and i stand

take a piss of my brew whose effect is dieing of so crack another one so my pain can smile

i’m not a stick-up kid

a fucking hungry nigger who feeds off the insecurities you build up with nice shit

yes, the one you wish would die

so what can you say

that’s not already been said

what can you do

that’s not already been done

you lock me up

my pain multiplies and multiplies until it bursts and i explode and shoot at a birthday party and make it a wake

‘cause the gun was pointed at the one

you write poetry for sermons over and songs

how do you write a poem

for the ones you wish would die

god waits for the day

he can wrap his hands around my neck

my mama could not take the pain of dead memories as she walks me 2 the door

she cries

said she has 2 begin now

2 separate her self from the hatred she helped create i kissed the door as she slammed it

held her

like i knew she was holding me on the other side told her i understand

had 2 make loot

so i ski masked it

taped handle

never spoke 2 my victims killed and took

took their crumbs and made them into a stale pie that never filled me

just kept me hungry for more

the one you wish would die

standing out in the cold

as revenge ran up

and hit me more times than a cop, a perp with bullets that made my blood

hit the ground like syrup

so mama remembers me now

as the pastor jumps around on stage begs god 2 take my soul

god says no

he brought me 2 much pain he must burn

that’s the reason why my mother cries my victims’ tears

so how do you write a poem for the ones you want 2 die

do you just look at a blank page

write a song for the one that killed your moms

does your paper stay blank like mine could someone

please tell me

how do you write a poem

for the ones we wish would die?

black America

do you kill me

or do you teach me? 

do you love me

or push me away?

whatever the cost

i will never go away

but multiply and creep into your children’s minds 

grow like the boogie man

become realities

subtract the living

pour brews for the dead

divide families

as gangs set up retaliations

2 continue towards armageddon

as mothers weep

curse my name 

as papa drinks

tries 2 remember what he taught

and what he never will

brother 2 sister

, try 2 fill in the spaces

of the missing link

babies ask, “where he gone?

when he coming back?

where my daddy?

why mama crying?

why everyone crying?”

it’s Christmas and jesus was resurrected and your father’s dead

we do it like

delilah 2 samson

jacob 2 esau

cain 2 abel

judas 2 jesus

sold him for 30 pieces of golf am i my brother’s keeper?

no, i’m my brother’s killer

don’t smile, sun

ain’t no brother shit, sun every nigger for them self, sun born by your self, sun

live for your self, sun

every nigger got 2 protect self, sun

every nigger feel the bullet for your self, sun every nigger shit in their drawers

cough their blood for self, sun

every nigger in a pine box for self, sun unmarked grave for self, sun

every nigger serve time

‘cause when he killed him

he was thinking of self, sun

i’ll be your dubois 2 marcus

elijah 2 malcolm

jesse 2 fararakhan

black man 2 black woman

the powerless who fight among themselves for crumbs i’ll be your papa 2 mama

when he whooping her ass i’ll be the elder 2 youth one die sooner

one die later

but neither never lived

we do it like delilah 2 samson jacob 2 esau

cain 2 abel

judas 2 jesus

sold him for 30 pieces of gold am i my brother’s keeper?

no, i’m my brother’s killer

II

fuck hookers

most women be like cars

if you ain’t got the loot 2 put down don’t even look

so i test drive and jump out at red lights

fuck niggers

they come a dime a dozen niggers come so cheap

if they was in a supermarket they be in the 99 cent bin

crackers be like hard headed brats what they touch they break

what they don’t hear they feel when they speak is pure lies

hum this shit like a hymn blessings from the devil written by a possessed soul it’s called 30 pieces of gold

hum it in the churches

when you call them fools pagans

hum it in your groups

when you argue over ideology

hum it on the plantation

when you ask why that sister got the promotion cracker gave her all the crumbs

hum it in your support groups when you say black men ain’t shit that’s why i pick the pale

divide yourselves, niggers curse yourselves, niggers then kill yourselves, niggers

remember

when you come in front of the lord on judgment day god will ask you what the cost is 2 sell your souls

tell him

30 pieces of gold 

My Mama Smiles Now,

Cause I put a Nine 2 my father head and said,

Slap again nigger

slap again

My mama Smiles now