i was beaten in the key of revolt & bongo / unmelodic & bright i didn’t start as a bowl / but rather cries trapped in the husk of tamboobamboo / from the hands of slaves captured by French creoles

in the mountains, we remove our clothes                              those costume carcasses, charter atlas

rid ourselves of sorrow, its mediocrity                          its hesitant ache, savants of the massifs

Dangle god over water. Don’t listen to his pleas & cock / your head to the side to see him turn red in the face.