Monday, February 10, 2014


How Black Is Whitehot

So we’ve been through this before, we did the dance, I saw you
Sure shot walking, dominating the field, big boss baller hopping
Jump as high as the sky, money talks when you come a coming
Playing the field, square jawed, taking punches from jabbers
Just outta school, what do they know, put ‘em up for adoption
Concoction, spoonful of purple to put ‘em to sleep, waste basket
Paper bag over your head, punch a hole in it so your eyes can see
Fee, for every dollar they make it’s their lives you take, white paper
White hot, can’t afford the printing press, so you dazzle ‘em on line
Fine, but who these scheezers who call you friend, where they be
Beating up them keys with their fingers, modernity, fraternity
Y’all hanging in them art stores thinking y’all gonna be Clemente
Where the party at, Williamsburg, got a lobster girl on my dick
Thick, quick, Bushwick, here we come again, we be photographing
Late night, we be charmers, cocktails in hand, marching like a band
The last waltz into Manhattan, take the L train into the East Village
Fuzz Glass, white nigga, great black hope, psycho drugs, psycho sexy
What guru are you, who you think you schooling, this ain’t Pearl Paint
Got my Cobalt Blue, ball point pen, gonna paint me a red hot hen
She be Brooklyn, Clockwork Eddie, balls to the wall, bad mama jamma
Coffee in a pot, she put the B in Avenue B, where Allen Ginsberg at
In this building where he lived, we spend the days making selfies
Waxing threads of poetry, she feeds me, she feeds me Long Island bass
While her man talks AC/DC, Hazy Fantazy, where them art school boys
They now hip, white boys with their white hair, you ain’t no Warhol
You ain’t no Schnabel, why you walking like you own a loft in Soho
Get outta my way, I’m on to something, what Henry did to Black Flag
I’m gonna do to you, put the heat on you, damn near stress you out
Had enough of the Nylons and Cosmopolitans, I want me a new vibe

So we’ve been through this before, we did the dance, I saw you
Black Harlem, Black Renaissance, with all the Monks and Mingus

Excuse me miss, I have come to apply for the position of gallery intern
In the years spent I hope to get your ass to the Liverpool Biennial
I hope to abide by the rules of not smoking on the terrace at night
I hope to help you attract new artists to this brand new establishment
Just don’t fetishize me, just don’t bring me to your office for a freebe
Don’t suck my leg off, I’ll need ‘em to walk my ass right outta here

No comments: