Poem 2.28.22: Black to the Future

Heaven aight up there.
Less moonshots please,
more clean pots
pipelines leading clean
water to soil,
Sons &Daughters, lead
made livin graves.
Glass houses mean
less when Shame
can be coded-in.

Lean starts are all
we’ve lived. Born
to star in the dark
and be the light. I don’t
chase I gravitate.

Nah! The Future
is where We are!
Ask again, nah
I’ll say—
switch to match code,
spin mission.

There. Set course?
Of course, set
to profit
&mirror owed
with ode.

Keep the gold,
melanated down to
the toe hold
I have on liberation.
It’s for the OG&
the-young in me.
I seem they equity&
sweat; they glee!

Pitch? Word,
picture this!
Math harnessed
to conquer past&
crack white mask; Black
Futures don’t run on gas.

We, digital diaspora,
and repass; iterate,
gyrate, throw weight;
From Bluest Eye
It’s Toni,
Not Jobs,
who mystifies.

Hers, are
the shoulders&
of Harriet Cooper&
DuBois we rise
off they’re perch,
do we spy; a future
Moment led by I!

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