Saturday, January 29, 2011

TYRONE


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TYRONE
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Tyrone
—for Audre Lorde

Tyrone be laid-back—
A young slacker unicorn
Lanky dark noir lover.

He lives in a world—
Young mulatto manhood
His unicorn sleeps.

Sleeping & dreaming—
Unrelentlingly mature
Haughty kid brother.

Outta his shorts tho—
A man-child grows & growls
His armpits groaning.

Kid Brother
—for Audre Lorde

Deep inside Tyrone—
Engorged with brotherly love
He’s oozing with it.

Spurts of demon seed—
Without the act of gladness
No embellishments.

Moody Mandingo—
Jungle-pubes & nude beauty
Congo nightclub drums.

He needs to forget—
His father’s saxophone down
There between his legs.

Show Me Your Face
—for Audre Lorde

Show me your real face—
The one mother saw those nights
There in Chicago…

When she was fucking—
You into your existence
Legs around his neck.

Let me see your face—
Distended like your father
Lakeshore nightclub nights.

Let me become you—
Like mother became him
Him losing it for you.

Redhead Mother
—for Audre Lorde

Tyrone my lover—
Carrying your heavy load
Indelicate flesh.

Your deceitful words—
Jiving with ignorant chicks
You had a secret.

Kinky bright-orange pubes—
You inherited from her
But that’s not all, kid.

Blaxploitation—
“Shaft” snorting coke in bed
Proud of your 10 inches.

Voodoo Hoodoo
—for Audre Lorde

I can feel myself—
Like a dry desiccated
Old dinosaur bone.

Waiting for thunder—
And your Jurassic jizz to
Resurrect me now.

Sure of your dark strength—
Letting me be man-eater
Cannibal for your cum.

Ancient as rivers—
Tallahatchie sluggish flow
Mississippi sludge.

Yoknapatawpha
—for Audre Lorde

As tart & tasty—
As fine Yoknapatawpha
Thick chicken Egg yolk.

I swallow it all—
Each squirt of Jefferson jizz
I be queer Quentin.

Getting Dalton Ames—
There on that old stony bridge
Getting him off good.

Just like Caddy does—
Feel my throbbing vein up here?
On my straining neck?

Spilt Offspring
—for Audre Lorde

How much spilt offspring—
Did I squeeze outta each nut
Coming outta you?

How your legs fluttered—
Like broken wings of a bird
Your heart skipping beats?

How may young sons—
And beautiful cute daughters
I sucked outta you?

Seed pod split open—
Sea-shells with pearls deep inside
Your Delta Queen lips?

Spilling your offspring—
Oozing your muy macho
Down my fucking throat.

Family Tree
—for Audre Lorde

I wanted to feel—
My kid brother lose it bad
Going spaz real hard.

Suck it, beat you off—
Milking our Family Tree
Nasty nut-cream spluge.

Your ear-phones playing—
Calling me her name, Eileen
“Okay girl, take it…”

Toes bent, eyes tight-shut—
Head buried sideways in pillow
My tongue up your asshole.

Martin Luther King Way
—for Audre Lorde

Riding the light-rail—
All the way downtown tonight
Outta the Ghetto.

Dahomey dinge queen—
Beside me my cute boyfriend
Your knees pressing close.

I can still taste you—
Your South End black libation
Illuminates me.

Outta Holly Park—
Old Othello Street housing
Now whitey upscale.

Your mother, sister—
Have moved to Tacoma
Cheaper place to live.

You leans close to me—
Earth & moon meld into one
You smell like King Toffah.

The light-rail is fast—
Fast & smooth & streamlined
Thru the city night.

Don’t Wait Too Long
—for Audre Lorde

Some guyz like to wait—
For life, for a thrill, for touch
For somebody else.

To heal them, make them—
Whole with their mouth wide-open
In wonder & love.

You did it to me—
The way your night-crawler got
Halfway down my throat.

But I play it safe—
I learned from Tyrone to use
Rubbers making love.

The Moment doesn’t—
Linger or loiter around
It’s got plans for us.

It aint got no time—
For anything but living
Living & dying.

The stars way up there—
They don’t care for you & me
Most people don’t either.

When things don’t wanna—
Change then it’s time for you
To do some changing fast.

The D-Word
—for Audre Lorde

They bedevil me—
Some words are totally bad
Real bad to the bone.

They’re like the N-word—
Just a one-way street nowhere
No where & no how.

Other words are vague—
Dinge queens can be degrading
High yellow be better.

Not all words are cool—
Squeezed below the belt nicely
Zippered up so neat.

Words bedevil me—
Tyrone’s skin isn’t jet-black
It’s milk chocolate.

His pubes are bright-orange—
His serpentine dreadlocks beige
His penis is dinge.

He comes easily—
But sometimes it’s kinda hard
Like pulling a Tooth.

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