Five Points, Ten Points

whiteness ain’t the same as them
a grave in exchange for the commons.
blackness
is a range of deviations from
in the commons.
said no to the state from growl
to funked- up air from ja to mya, bobby to little esther.
motherfuckers gave up the commons
for a grave.
you gave up the commons for a grave but
black migrates for who it is
not for like dee dee.
so get this up in you
cut of the black key.
won’t come when you
call but them handbills,
found broadside for runaways,
my crew is in the corner
all the time

and roll the stone. for romance,
the unhardened minimal
sound attorney, ungarreted,
took grave accent to secret stash for striving.
the serial tonic
still bursts away from
ridiculous preachers
in seizing and flying.
indented glasgow servants
long for henrik larssen in flat
black lines
you gave up the commons
for a grave. broken windows
is a small time patriarch, a little bitty port
authority. the fucked up waterfront
is buried in safety from
backward flowing water and
charred, current ballads with flight
inside from wanting what they got
and got a grave. your fluent
capture is the same as them
except your serial remains