#Winning

My penis was eaten by an old catfish

After my brother tore me down

My sister/wife put me back me together

From all the parts that she had found

She had to take a golden phallus

And strap it to my groin

Then we made love all night long

Got her pregnant with a baby boy

And that little boy, well he growed up

To do his daddy proud

He found his murderin’ uncle hiding away

And the circle of violence spun round

The circle of violence spins round and round

With no beginning, with no end

I learned the hard way the circle never slows down

Violence always wins

Listen to me while you’re breathing hard

I said violence always wins

Oh, listen to me while you’re seeing stars

Violence always wins

It ain’t hard to see the cosmic truth

Peace and love are real fine virtues

But they don’t hold a candle to the old 1, 2

Because violence, steady violence,

Violence, always violence,

Always wins

#Winning

Maybe you deserve a good beating. Maybe then you’ll fall in line and hold your tongue.

The new green
often brings
unexpected pains.
My dear mother – the jewels in her eyes
never matched the ice in her heart.

“Keep me alive,” she begged.
But all us kids could do
was play croquet
while the sun melted
the soft statues around us.

   We were made to witness a natural violence.
   We were made to act violent ourselves.

Our bodies hold us
in submission
like a prison.
We witness these deaths
at the hands
of armed civilians
and we grow
ashamed of our bodies
like Adam,
like Eve.

We will fight this fight.
We will fight this same fight.
We will kill all of these men
when this doesn’t stop.
We will kill all of these men
to save our sons,
to save our songs.

I remember the words of my mother,
in the hospital
just before
I was born:

“It’s not too late, is it?
Even if they stop shooting?
If they kill a man
maybe they will stop killing us, amen.”

When I think about my mother,
the new green, our bodies,
the melting sun,
I have a hard time believing
that she missed the danger
in those bent and broken men.
It was her own words,
in her own words,
that were her last words:

“They just don’t stop.”

Maybe you deserve a good beating. Maybe then you’ll fall in line and hold your tongue.