Maya, what did you do?
You were fresh,
a complex mesh and soooo alive
with anger, danger, blackness jive and
thrived on black, loud, and proud,
Girl…
What’d you do?

Now every street corner boner,
porch light night fighter
is screamin’, dreamin’, schemin’ out loud,
not proud but loud enough to not hear anymore.
Girl…
What’d you do?

I know it was you,
You know,
you know,
now I No.

Here down before,
to bore and score a late date
with the half-known, not yet grown
to freedom,
hangers on just hangin’,
bangin’,
Girl...
What’d do you?

Just listen.
Just hear here and now,
with wrinkled black brow born to somethingness,
soon left to nothingness
among the cool, cruel, here feel my tool or I’ll feel it myseff
in public,
in pubic,
here reelin’ with the feelin’ they don’t really know or No,
where did it go, Girl?
Girl, I know it was you,
and what’d you do?

It’s like having to listen to a blister,
when some pseudo sista’ starts poorin’ down
around the mouth ‘bout somethin’ she don’n No!

And when some Brotha’, dressed like all another
rag-man don’t come dressed as anything...

Don’t scream at me, Lee,
‘bout somethin’ you can’t see between the
trees of suburbia,
the yule ain’t bringin’ no mule,
yo’ daddy didn’t expect it either did mine.

In-dented servitude, it’s rude to diss your elders,
Boy,
And I didn’t say Roy,
just to piss you off.

Tell it to the Turks, and jerks like Luigi,
who crawled and clawed their way along
a sorry song of “Oh my God”,
and Irish need not apply
the makeup so thick
and suck my dick you British Masters
of the Universe,
“It could be worse”, in verse Donne gone, Falun Gong along
the path to lifelessness.
Girl? Oh Girl...

It’s like Langston never lived, you No I No.
It’s like Tom’s Uncle never elevated,
nor elated over crawlin’ up the ladder,
chatter endlessly the magpies’ lies all over now...
All over now.
And how the Dumas flaw becomes the taste
of zinc,
Unthink becomes the floss of teeth too young
to ever been bit,
what is this shit,
Girl?

And do the do mean like you do,
my pretty Angelou?
Girl...
What did you do?
I’m pissed at you...

Take away their beer,
And keep those kids outta my ear,
Girl.

10/04/2002

Posted on 02/21/2005
Copyright © 2025 Timothy Somers