Nicki releases anaconda / while the United Snakes prepares to bite Black People into myths in Ferguson

Nicki releases anaconda / while the United Snakes prepares to bite Black People into myths in Ferguson which is every street corner and every streetlight/ chippin its  green paint or steel/ in cul de sac warps/ or not/ still/ all those things and fire hydrants/ if you are  black child./ The next bite into myths again will be engraving us in oil pastel carvings self-portraitaround urns/ our last poises / quilted figurines/ They are skinning our faces/ sewing children foreheads and smiles into post stamps, Licking our Blood on the back til its sticky enough like mal sauce on the black hand side/ We are tense like chicken grease a forgotten people accidentally become of US? Does death love Black children more than we? Cuz they are going missing before their own birthday outside their backyards graduations chairs empty into alleyways exchanged for basketball crates Are they all on bus to go play hide and go breathe in statistics?/ Who Blew Up Amerikka Cuz the poems are not disarming anymore police/ and Leaders who are Black are misnamed for Black Leaders/ few can see through the Imperial Black cloak /Emperors New Hoe While Nicki releases her Anaconda/ This country wear the pinky ring in the  world and Black culture is toothpaste to its smile/ gloss to its spangled horns/   / Thee cup to hold its coffee and flask/ in the Earth of darkness he perpetuates/Billowing cyclone of rhythm to its rattles/ Nonetheless Nicki release her anaconda Hot Wet Black Pussy is still for sell during the conversion of Black people into taxedermy / Museum figures and myths. This is just a commercial Break. This script is Good Morning poem from the last survivor.

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This entry was published on August 20, 2014 at 3:33 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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