What good is a n*gga who can’t dance?

what good is a n*gga who can’t dance?

What good is

Good? or evil, or anyone who ain’t US

The patience we found

arms length

stretched to fit.

the joog was in the detail:

the way that shadow whispers to your corners.

your latex liquid coils,

melted over like bronzen satin.

wiping away the

the billowing mass,

running full-stride home.

of which we named the rooster’s call,

Edificial overreach

structural strangleholds

strategic stratification

&

chattel tangentiality.

But this call knows many names.

Maybe it was the sound of a bell?

What Good is a n*gga who can’t dance?

I rang my wrist against the rope.

sought for a better time than now to tell you,

I love the skin your in.

Felt safe being small,

risked death and life unfulfilled.

If there was a room that I could fill.

I would pour you in

until the top don't twist