Tongue Swallow
Tongue Swallow
This thang do me like
I don’t belong
This thang hang around
Like weather fronts and stall
Above me making it snow
Rain and storm
Making rivers
Lakes and seas rise up and rebel
Against land and everything
And everybody on it
This thang like climate change
Got so many names
We can’t point a finger at it
And identify it well enough
To get help putting it down
Duke Ellington found a name for it
The miasma of the oppressive culture
Is known as Transbluesency
Defined as A blue fog you can almost see through
We live our lives in that fog
Imamu Amiri Baraka says in Funklore
That’s why our spirit make us the blues
We is ourselves the blues
Fred Moten author of In The Break: The Aesthetics
Of the Black Radical Tradition called it
Resistance of the object
A conscious intention to resist as well as
Unconscious resistance to dominant cultural ways of being
And knowing
Simply because they are values of the oppressive culture
I struggle to reclaim
My tongue and attach it
In my mouth so I can speak
My language
Sometimes I’m too angry to write
But I try everyday
Too often my words won’t dance into
Something that feels like grace
So I suffer with passages
On a page that can’t be shared
I write and recant
Because I don’t want to leave records
Holding only rage
I don’t want writing that’s too raw
To escape and misrepresent me
I made space to write and now
Time and space betray me
Put out my shingle announcing
My intentions
Now what
Who is this man masquerading as me
Who can’t write his way out of rage
Out of this thang
And an identity crisis
An invisible foot is kicking my butt
And when I turn around there’s only His story
His values
Her domination and none of them are visible
They’ve disappeared behind time
Institutions and traditions
As if they were never there
It used to be I who was out of sight
Now I’m a target for long-range weapons
Unmanned drones
Some drink to forget
Others drink to remember
I drink to lubricate mouth parts
Too dry
Clinched
Jaws too tight