An American Love Story In 4 Words:

Where The Water Flows

See the river. Need the river. River wild. Tame the river. Want a city. Build a city. Flood the city. Blame the river. Build a wall. Hold it back. Keep it there. Dig it deep. Run a pipe. Get a drink. Water plants. River sleep. Board a ship. Travel north. Economics. Get in line. Hit a bridge. Sink the ship. Oil spill. Pay a fine. Snow melts. Up north. All that water. Coming down. High tide. Water rise. River crests. Leaving town. Higher walls. Deeper dredge. Levee breach. People drown. River mad. Eating land. Cypress trees. Can’t be found. Water flows. Downhill. Need a drink. Shit and piss. Flush the pot. To the lake. Don’t forget. Feed the fish. Oil and grease. Antifreeze. Down the drain. They don’t mind. Grab a pole. Cast it out. Catch a bite. Dinner time. Oil and grease. Fry it up. Kids say. It tastes funny. Wife sick. Healthcare. Plan canceled. No money. Take the kids. To the lake. Find a beach. Dive in. Fish stink. Sand sticky. Signs say. Don't swim. News says. Boil your water. After every time. It rains. House floods. Water dries. Do this all. Over again. River laughs. Lake cries. Travel West. Dry land. Build a house. In the hills. Fill your pool. Water plants. Never flood. Never rain. All the water. Drying up. River laughs. Lake too. Need a drink. Out of luck.

I asked her who she voted for in 2004, we were discussing politics and religion and that was the first election I was old enough to participate in. I said, Gore, she said that was the year she stopped believing in anything, but she still went to church just in case. She still voted in every election after that just to be safe because she didn’t want to be blamed when things went wrong, and things always went wrong. And knowing she wasn’t the reason why helped her sleep at night. I asked her how she’s been sleeping lately.

She asked, why do you put so much pressure on me to dream when I’m still stuck between feeling lost and feeling free? Forced to get along with those who arm themselves and dream of harming me. Sold me a house with a lawn and picket fence, but made copies of the key so you can come and go as I sleep at night and my dreams can be policed.

I told her I had been struggling with these dreams of my own, on the verge of packing up and selling everything I owned, but it was still too comfortable to pretend.

She told me I sounded like a politician campaigning for an election I knew I would never win, and American woke up a while ago and wasnt letting anymore new dreams in.

But I was just trying to get her attention…

Anybody claiming to be your soulmate is probably a sociopath.

THE WATER IS RISING 

The winds are picking up and people picking their things.... Here we go again but those who stay are not ready to go wherever her winds blow them I know you cant say nobody told them but you can say nobody showed them the way

It figures.... the rich in this city don’t give a damn about thousands of poor niggas

The winds are picking up but for most there's nowhere to go just get on their knees and hope they don't wind up wherever the winds blow

Left deserted without help with the only comforting words of "you have been warned" but the poor in this city are strong we should make it out of whoever decides to weather the storm

we should be safe now we can see the sky now we can go outside now that the winds have died down... but the waters are rising

and the streets begin to overflow those who find a way out still have nowhere to go

There is a thin line between determination and desperation in times of despair it’s almost as if the waters are purging us but who is to decide whose soul will be spared?

I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO SAVE MY PEOPLE I SHOULD HAVE PLAYED MY PART! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED WHEN GOD TOLD ME TO BUILD THAT ARC but i didn't now i know for certain its hopeless I watch my people flee in a mass exodus with no sign of Moses WHO WILL SPLIT THE SEA? WHO WILL DECIDE WHO WILL BE CHOSEN? don't leave it up to me my words are mere echoes LET MY PEOPLE GO! but nobody is listening

It figures the rich in this city don't give a dam ABOUT THOUSANDS OF SCREAMING NIGGAS

THE WATERS ARE RISING and so are the number of victims we cant call on God because he is the one who did this along with tampered-with levee systems GRANDMA SAY GOT DON’T GIVE YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN TAKE AND DADDY SAY GOD DON’T MAKE NO MISTAKES but i know government officials do and i know what happens when THOUSANDS OF SCREAMING NIGGAS ARENT LISTENED TO

What a sight for sore eyes to witness such a painful changing of the seasons the magic curtain has been pulled away now that the waters are receding

and the crowd gasps as they watch the stranded struggle for purpose how government officials really feel about the black social class has finally surfaced

It figures the rich in this city don't give a damn about thousands of dead niggas

Refugees in the same country we pay taxes to live in

THE WATERS ARE RECEDING the cleansing is fleeting the christening is one genuflection away from being completed.

Do you smell that? smells like thousands of dead niggas a city flooded by the same rivers that were used to carry slave ships and forced to swallow dead niggas

You should have know that overboard thrown slaves would not be digested well now the old man river has taken his revenge and he’s making sure you hear the story he has to tell

The slaves kept turning and turning under the sea due to their restless souls until they picked up enough winds to blow them back on the ones who stole them is how the story was told

The winds that blew off the coast of Africa across the Atlantic followed that same middle passage to remind these southern states of their damage

They blew apart those same ports that were used to auction off families on and blew down those same trees that were used to hang niggas on

And as the waters recede back into the river we see government officials still don't give a damn about thousands of dead niggas.

I'm not afraid. All of this is new and uncertain. Fear comes from familiarity - the expectation of what you're about to lose, the anticipation that all those beast you tamed will one day turn on you. I used to be afraid that I would work my whole life for my dreams only to realize that I didn't really want them once they came true, but I don't have the privilege of fear anymore. I no longer use my superpowers to peer into the future because that tends to ruin things. Anything that happens from now is unplanned and off script.

Just trying to find the art I’m good at so I can make more of it.

Be Safe

I’m superficial, I know, and I’m growing, but I felt something last night when I hugged her bye. Maybe because I was drunk and she was high, but I didn’t want to let her go. She’s so cute and so stranded and so graceful and so damaged and so ready for whatever is about to happen next. She laid her head on my chest and said “be safe,” and I knew she was talking about more than just the drive home.

“Don’t you write no poems about me”

“Boy, don’t you write no poems about me!  I’m not trying to wake up tomorrow and read me on your timeline, or see some words written on your wall about how you trying to fall in and out of love with me, I don’t wanna hear all that. Matterfact, you probably write a poem for everybody, huh? I bet they all feel like the one once you get to talking like you do, I know you. Well, you can save all that with me. You need to be asleep anyway, don’t be over there trying to come up with something poetic to put up on your tumblr about us in the morning.”

I asked her who she voted for in 2004. We were discussing politics and religion and that was the first election I was old enough to participate in. I said, Gore she said that was the year she stopped believing in anything but she still went to church just in case. She still voted in every election after that just to be safe because she didn’t want to be blamed when things went wrong and things always went wrong. And knowing she wasn’t the reason why helped her sleep at night. I asked her how she’s been sleeping lately. She asked, “why do you put so much pressure on me to dream when I’m still stuck between feeling lost and feeling free? Forced to get along with those who arm themselves and dream of harming me. Sold me a house with a lawn and picket fence but made copies of the key so you can come and go as I sleep at night and my dreams can be policed. I worked my whole life for the American dream to find out it wasn’t for me. What do you do when your dreams come true and you don’t want them in the end? Or you’re so in debt you don’t know if you can afford to dream again? Do you work the rest of your life to pay them back or go on and pretend like you never gave a second thought to giving up or giving in? Happily ever afters make you think that your dreams come true in the end when they actually happen somewhere in the middle and the rest of the story is you figuring out what to do with them. Who is it you want to be? Did you ever consider maybe giving up is a way of getting free?” I told her she sounded like a politician campaigning for an election she knew she would never win. A disappointed victim of her own expectations. And there I was, trying to convince myself I didn’t want all the things I knew I did. Still holding on to dreams I was told to believe in ever since I was a kid. But it’s such a relief to wake up and no longer want the things you felt you could never have. I could free myself by letting go of all the dreams I’d been sold in the past but I didn’t. I still wanted it all even if she warned me it wouldn’t last. I wrote my vote on a post-it note and slipped it in her bag. She won the election, I lost my way. We were a new nation under old flags.

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