Spacedream Struggle

1.

It has been a long day
and I am on a spaceship
going home.

I am not
at the controls, so I lean back
in my weightlessness
and let the music
carry me.

Sleep
will disarm me, but
I surrender to it, being
the direction of the music
that the ship
chose.
I am in the memorybanks
of the ship's psychiatrist.
He is on the couch
spilling his life
to me.
I take it all down
in a shorthand that I can't read.
He goes to sleep mumbling
and my voice takes-up
where he left off.

2.

I fought the christians today.
Me an my man Jesus, who is
on the mission with me.
and who would have me
turn the other cheek
nigger.
But
we teamed up this morning, with
love in his heart and rage in mine
we turned the sky of this ship
into a battleground.

Jesus stood on my deck
turning both cheeks
at once. I

had my back to the wall
sidekicking their
preacher.

We fought the good fight.

The heat of battle
dripping
down
my body
like sweat,

the ghetto in my eyes
was a firedance
while
my fist
became John Henry's hammer
and the side of my feet
became the switch --
blade
they say we all
carry.

3.

The psychiatrist woke up
and turned my voice off. He
left convinced that he
was not as sick
as me.