Friday, February 28, 2014
Boys from the Congo a Go Go
Ghetto trucks pick up boys at corner of Intervale dropped of at art galleries
Into Williamsburg they come, in the dark their teeth white, their eyes bright
It’s not as if prison was a destination but with grit they are stone, muscular
With very little knowledge of oil pastel, chalk marks of dead bodies seen
Spray paint on neighborhood walls, Hello my name is Monk from Zanzibar
I have meditated on a book of Allah, fasted for months, chanted days on end
This vehicle chugs along pathways and drive ways, drive byes gone away
Blood shed, bodies buried six feet deep, in harmony songs are sung, a cheer
Emerging, sidewalks change from gangs to couples, stylish, white fashion
Bodegas merge into supermarkets, groups of people under translucent light
Clothes they wear fall far from city stores, washed up along river shores
Dark corners, different languages collide, Hasidic, barrage of street hustlers
Soundtrack to a Wes Anderson film, these night battles rage on, star studded
Headlights dim, garbage strong, no license, parking among filth they arrive
Inside the art mongers mate under cleverness, what creatures among them
Who and what is cool, slaves, celebrate this thing called art, show mercy
Let there be sparks, they are men on parole, walk them through decadence
Men of color, allow yourselves this fancy, follow each and everyone around
Where do the men go, Mark Rothkos sipping white wine, call it the Congo
Call it a session in hell, mark of thieves thieving, at all hours speculating
Magdalena make music with me, I am black, not one here beats a drum
We come from the Congo, Mark Rothko, Mark Rothko, we have come
For the head of Robert Longo, The Cities, what man made this, remarkable
All the while the movie reel, images revolve on a screen, fall upon your face
You are black mystic misunderstood, you are a dream revealing, paint it
Paint a poster, place it here, now, call it Congolese, indeed a masterpiece
When the night watch men drift, another truck arrives, this Congo a Go Go
The boys packed in at corner of Bedford, dropped off at Intervale Avenue
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