My sister's hair

Show me an Afro on
a sister and I flow so , she knows I've missed her since black is beautiful became old hat
as if loving your really self ain't all that

As blaxploitation became relaxploitation
feasts of weaves or a clumped on hair piece
descended to butter knives and bacon grease
to the hot iron comb to acid,
 as assimilation ,
became imitation ;  became homage

through  added fractions of chain re-actions

MTV recognises
self esteem as  a have not's dream to market research
and improvises
regulating  not your class but how much attention you'd pay to blur the details

I had a tear that became pools for each strand of your hair that died in fried spools of outcast molecules
degraded behind a paradox of semantics
Like ;going natural and ; good hair and free...style and ..……… relaxed
 as in to be relieved of the burden of living

That's why it burns your scalp and that's why it's itching
 see  you can't just kill god
Take heed. She cries when she bleeds
And sometimes she resents you challenging  her strength
when making you buff is not enough
She's crying for you but she's hurting too
because only god knows what you're going through

My eyes are as woeful as the lynchmob's noose creaking branches of an unrefined crucifix cradling the prefix of status  above pursed lips of daffodils,  licking the last palpitated drop of sweat from your predecessor's twitching shell
The unpeturbed foetus of capitalism
as relaxed as my sister's hair

 Ghosts hum  the  rythmn of the pendulumming
 wailing  a home coming
till plankton shy from morning
And as  day brightens the noose tightens
and the  re-juvenating deth of 500  million sister's hair laments in creaking bows and the souls of wide eyed babies contracted into  lucifer's tarrif; the western   production of corpses 

See it ain't about me and it ain't about you
It's about the Hiroshimic indiscrimination of anhilation
It's about the punitive right to eroticise and gorge the produce of an ivory coast farmed by brutalised labour
It's about somebody being somebody
And walking a rabbit proofed fence
Its about the ecstatic beauty of one cell parading on duty because you made it through and returned to you
and  yan couldn't complete yin without the G
It's about raising your head cause you. Ain't ded

You are an organic  cathedral of art cerebrally torn apart
with a  defunct
void of the funk
dunked in funk of factory spunk
D I Y
fake I.d
Bashment attachment
perched on the head of a queen whose prominence is circumstancially inconsequential

If it cascades it'll  welcome rain
but starched into a mold of nomadic grunge
as stll as arctic waterfalls
splintered  with  pick-axes of thrill seeking aliens
IT'S SHIT ! clinging  with glue like a sapless ivy stapled  to her unloved brow
plastic prop riveted
sailor's rope wrenched in a lynchmobs knot
waiting for a wink from the sun that'll never come
diming her light

My sister's hair bowed lower than the dilapidated gardens of Babylon
hiding under the skirt-tails of the shameless
As if there'd ever be sanctuary in the interim of apocalypse
instead of fallout from it's seemless dough like re-constituted embers from the pyres of genocides

Bloated daffodils  seared into asphalt as parking lines and she wears r&b  in a world iconising girls camouflaged  under chains of off-loaded  rubbish from salon
floors of  India and China investing in the motherland

Sisterhood ethics don't a realistc image make
a human chain couldn't infrige on an earthquake
nor a holocaust  subside your highways
or dissilusion the waters that excite the living forests of your body and the royal caverns of your mind
You can no more still the enchantment of micro-organisms
 circumnavigating your body  in oval dance patterns of your chromosomes
than you can ex communicate the melanin nestled in your milk