Sing It Like a God (2019)

Pinch Me

 

Call me constable
on patrol,
Leopold carving up the Congo
into three blocks of
crumbling corners
and foreclosures unfolding
into imperial turf.
My space:
No Mexicans, Assholes
or Ex-Hos allowed.

 

I am what makes you a man
in my book,
hollow points in my pocket
and nine millimeters hard against my hip.

 

Then he lurks,
lean and lion-like
leering and loitering
for the 46th time, growing taller
as I approach.

 

I’m the hunter so I’ll get to tell the story
of my valiant defense.
Already I’m putting words in his mouth,
my stubborn brownness glowing
in the whites of his eyes.
Aside from his scream
it’s a breathless affair
as I offer him up
to the god of crackers and concrete.

 

My head how it throbs
The rush of blood
The rush of blood
The rush