RIDING WITHOUT A MOUTH PIECE; THE BAGGING OF SKIP GATES

RIDING WITHOUT A MOUTH PIECE;

THE BAGGING OF SKIP GATES
From The Rat Lecture

"Well, nobody git kill"
- Bob Marley, remarking on an attempt on his life
by Jamaican political rivals


After a month and a half of
Intense Nfinity farming in China the man
Entered his house twice before he could
Be declared a Sacred Clown let Dionysus
Flip gender down go beyond hex the
Patty Roller didn't flinch as he rubbed
Scar tissue in the Star Child's eyes

Riding without a mouth piece or a
Brain in his head 'Skip' Gates put
A Hyundai through its paces at over
121 miles per hour opening the heart
Of south central Boston when in attack
Mode he could hit a baseball thrown
By Ken Burns from a surf board

Torch the bedroom and burn the mother
Fucker down for Crazy Horse in search
Of a searing memory how about revenge
For the Kongo Barb Be Que sauce
My third grade math teacher smeared on
The bottom of my SAT score because
My answers just were not hot enough

If you feel chilled in the dark
If your front teeth get clocked by
A flying Irish Catholic fist if you
Get to work one morning and the
Door to your office is locked with
All the sighing dignity of your freight
And essence strewn in to the street

If you find Klan essays in your
Inbox a picture of your family with
The kids' faces x'd out a still
Life of your self with a paving
Stone moored cut in the precise place
Where your face should be or a
White Brick Swaztika on point at myspace

If they take your pass port force
You into internal exile monitor your phone
Calls move you to Colorado in the
Middle of the night folded blind if
Your shit begins to stink like a
Sloe small blue black bitter plum tree
If your mind changes 'holla at me'


July 24, 2009
K. Curtis Lyle, Warrior Poet