My friend believes that when they come
They will not come bearing
Gifts and cures
They will come for us as an appetizer
With a honey mustard glaze recipe

I thought, ‘if this is the craziest that she is
we should wish for this kind of crazy’
I see us; mad, vacant eyes
one honk or raised voice away from detonation
What will be the crimes of opportunity?
concrete mad samurais wait

You can’t watch all of us
we slip into your bedroom
whisper a litany of your crimes
while you tremor in restless hours

Wait a minute…the fever is breaking …this just in
news from the brown and black poor
played endlessly in Media’s theater

When fear is the only thing
that keeps you away
from what you are