For bongoman Jahlani Niaah on his earthday.
Red dirt everywhere
Bloodying up my house
In the foyer
Up the staircase
By the sink with those dirty dishes
Inside the den with those shelves of paper
I need to read those papers
Mark them up and turn in the grades
But for the broken glass
My feet are raw
Stinging from the peroxide foaming at the flesh
I rub my eyes no tears there
Just burning pupils looking at red dirt on the floor
Blood on the walls
I couldn’t walk any further
Hands and knees in red dirt
Glass cutting up my fingerprints
No more fortune to tell
Of my kids not home
Wife not home
No witness
No crime
But those paintings on the wall
No light to shine on those eyes those faces
Framed with wood
Chop them down
Chop them up
Sharp edges to cut me up
Red dirt everywhere
Bloodying up my house
In the foyer
Up the staircase
By the sink with those dirty dishes
Inside the den with those shelves of paper
I need to read those papers
Mark them up and turn in the grades
But for the broken glass
Kongo man reverse your vee
It’s playtime now
No more wartime
Building time
Bricks for pyramids
Triangle base for Damballah shapes
Diamond space
Diamond time
Diamond laws
Taking me high
Arousing the blood flow
Erecting me
Tripping me out
Tripping me up
Crashing cheers crashing dreams
I fell over the ease
Stumbled over the balcony
Fell into a red hole
With red dirt
I grabbed onto my roots
Tangled up in red dirt
Suffocating in red dirt
Roots like stepping stones
More to give
More to see
More to free
From this vantage point
My vertical vee