;

THREE POEMS by avery r. young

new testament

i.

in temple

 

mudda:              boy!!!!!!!

                             gonna make my hair fall

                             worryin if yo life
                             still on dis side
                             of groun(d)

                             us been three day(s)
                             lookin fo u

                             u in herr
                             runnin
                             yo mouf

hey-zeus:          dunno y
                             u worryin
                             bout me

                             u know
                             whatchu had me fo

                             i handlin
                             my father
                             bidness

mudda:              my God!!!!!





 

  ii.

at wedding

 

hey-zeus:          woman!!!
                             i aint no magician

mudda:              boy
                             u aint gotta tell me
                             what thou art

                             i know who
                             u come from

                             but
                             u came outta Me

                             i say we need wine
                             & de angel already tol(d) me

                             how u gotta do
                             now
                             ax yo daddy
                             fo summa dat joo-joo

                             & see if him work(s)
                             like him say
                             him do





 

iii.

at table | after cross

 

mudda:              God.

                             u aint tell me
                             him wud bleed
                             like dat

                             .   dam(n)

god:                













 


iv.

cabin in sky


mudda:              after
                             dey kill(t) u

                             folk wud snatch
                             life from mudda(s)
                             in prayer

                             & soil de mudda(s)
                             in dey own crimson
                             & scream(s)
                             & de mudda(s) wud
                             tell dem no   
                             & dont
                             in front of my baby(s)

                             but
                             dey wud take de mudda(s)
                             & de baby(s) too

                             & de men who knew
                             what yo face look(d) like
                             in de dark
                             enuf to kiss it

                             hey-zeus

                             dontchu know how many
                             commere wif yo name
                             in dey throat

                             dontchu remember
                             de one time
                             u open(d) de sky
                             & u ax(d) dat one
                             muddafukka
                             y him yo electric chair

                             dontchu remember how
                             u change(d) him name
                             & way him sword flew

                             open de sky
                             now!

                             open it!!!

                             & snatch de evil
                             from dey palm(s)

                             turn deez muddafukka(s) paul
                             hey-zeus

                             turn dem all









 

little red
fo Toni

 

& when him come mandingo buc(k)
all greasy & blue in de hush

of her befo her give him a piece
of summa dat blow

a min(d) | her tell him
some man rape(d)

some woman her kin to
somewhere one day

& ran saffron
up & down

her | her tell him
her blk not almos(t)

white | her tell him
              dem be razor(s)             not roller(s)

curlin her hair
her tell him her aint a prize

wif a pussy
her tell him

her pussy de prize
her tell him

her need him to be
a winner | her tell him

him has no option
to lose









status 3
6.18.15

as far as i be concern(d)
dem n’em made jee-sus
de 1st transracial mudda- fukka | ever

blk!


 

 

 

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About avery r. young

avery r. young
Multidisciplinary artist avery r. young is a Cave Canem alum & 3Arts Awardee who’s written work has appeared in The BreakBeat Poets, American Studies Journal, AIMPrint, Cave Canem Fellows 2010 - 2011 Anthology and other anthologies. His work with language, performance, visual text & sound design has been featured in several exhibitions & on-line publications - notably The Hip Hop Theatre Festival, The Museum of Contemporary Photography and The Logan Center for the Arts. As an artist-in-residence at The University of Chicago, young completed a collection of sound design that will be featured on his first full-length album, booker t. soltreyne: a race rekkid and a collection of concrete poems called "cullud sign(s)." His work celebrates Black American history and culture, all the while pushing boundaries in aesthetics and the spaces language lends itself.