I won’t smile just because /
I’m not a clown.
We know better than walking with the flow of traffic
or to love without love
Demand a song for your shadow
garlic for your shoes / protect your trail
but saltwater the pattern
that only the shake of bones can re-assemble
this isn’t magic
but the perfect mixture of spirits
to parch abandoned trains traveling
and quench prayers pressed in family bibles.
There is no big top coming / No elephant tricks
So, from which rain do you belong?
who organized this parade?
with borrowed drum beats
something isn’t right…
we don’t play piccolo’s where I come from
And some will need to pay
especially if we don’t see the receipt or
experience you as a whole person
with a moon eclipsed hip
and patched spare tire
You want to stop crying?
Stop smiling for no reason.
Black folks don’t like clowns
“Black Folks Don’t Like Clowns” from the book “yardwork“