As simple an act

as opening the eyes. Merely

coming into things by degrees.

May this bitch and her sisters, all of them,

receive my words

in all their orifices like lye mixed with

cocola and alaga syrup

feel this shit, bitches, feel it, now laugh your

hysterectic laughs

while your flesh burns

and your eyes peel to red mud

breathing space,

momma, this one's for you.
found during a daytrip southerly, it actually looked just like this.
(how bout this as a print for your wall?)

Riding out

from this town, to another, where

it is also black. Down a road

where people are asleep. Towards

the moon or the shadows of houses.

Towards the songs' pretended sea.

from Legacy

I am real, and I can't say who
I am. Ask me if I know, I'll say
yes, I might say no. Still, ask.

Numbers, Letters

If you're not home, where
are you? Where'd you go? What
were you doing when gone? When
you come back, better make it good.

Numbers, Letters Amiri Baraka

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note Amiri Baraka

thanks to a friend's lit homework, i remembered how much i love this mans words.