Poem-a-Day

inertia’s at the front door lobbying for a way into the funk
           but packed the wrong tools, left
blues back where bebop jumped over the hammer.
           sold God’s imagination short.
now we’re here dancing again, Bessie’s song got my hips loose
           & what goods a revolution without a two-step?

beloved, there’s a party tonight & everybody gon’ be there

tonight, in Oakland, we carve up maplewood in steel-toe boots,
           stomp keys into the myth of whiteness. uncle sam’s teeth
rattle. Huey clinks the bars with Plato’s Republic between
           here and LA, conjures the one & three count. american chaos.
bass haunts the dichotomy, counterproduces the violence. troubles
           innocence. tonight in Oakland, the party is everywhere
& we cant distinguish one riff from another. black smoke funnels
           out the attic & the lamp shade’s crooked from the kickdrum—

beloved, (i said) there’s a party tonight & everybody gon’ be there

i’m trading in my gold tooth for a hand grenade
           at the back door: morning glory, milkweed, poppy.
the rest have names too, distinct & communal as sin.
           would you believe me if i told you miracles were small
enough to hold? scorched amber. night blooms. forgive me,
           sometimes the light blinds me to the light.

beloved, it’s a party tonight. everybodys here