day 2: april 8, 2010
(photography by kwesi abbensetts)
the hunger:
the jacket was for show only
the pockets weren't real
small slits cut in to hold just as much as he'd been able to naked
his sack was big he believed
his nuts somehow bigger
but he kept his eyes closed in the locker room
and his mouth closed at the dinner table
he had no say so in that matter
ain't no coincidence about his sack
his nuts dropped and his hustle grew
ain't gonna be no more immaculate conceptions
one dead rabbit is enough
he rapped with niggas who made lefts at forks and all the bad decisions when the right ones seemed so easy
there's much to be said about the god of them all
but between those scriptures he needed his name mentioned and everything due him put on front street
easy street
the block where he grew up
and nuts
it's nothing to stare into the eyes of the severed head
but nuts seem to go unnoticed when the eyes of the patriarch are staring at you over fried apples biscuits and apple butter
no - the jacket was for show
the joke at christmas to hide the part of his body least exposed
for fucks sakes
who puts on a hoodie with their fingers crossed?
no one asked what he wished for that one day over the fire
the candles
the candles
the candles
the party wasn't really his
the candles
no more lights around here thanks to the story of jesus
god don't come around here no more
not since the last dead rabbit
got him a girl baby
immaculately named jennifer
what you gonna put in your pockets now son?
your hands don't fit in the slit
and everything else you got will get you killed
or rico'd upstate
where god spends his summers
and his kid's adolescent years
what's in those pockets?
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