My mother tries to be supportive,
Catching me click-clacking
cream colored heels in her closet.
She chose not to cuss me out.

Daddy wasn’t that understanding,
Which is why I chose to move in
With a friend whom he didn’t like

Daddy was a Jealous father,
Which made him turn me
toward the Mephistophelean music of
his ol’ stage siren.

But Momma on the other hand,
Made me overstand
the underlying divinity in the nutrient moss
That grows under sly stones
and taught me to never judge Parliament.

Together they taught me how to eat
chocolate covered beatles and
let stones roll out of my bugle boy
jean pockets like Tadpoles.

It wasn’t until I moved in
with Andre Simone
that I’d find my mind dirty.

So much grime inside 
backward moans making
converted cries into flirty fangs
sucking wax out of ear holes and
pouring them into subterranean werewolf servings
that growl like Lou’s flute Reed
rolling over Underground velvet.

Freedom was irrelevant until London.

2.

Jehovah, please still love me,
Every night when I prostrate and wait
to be filled with spired-in lifting breath.
Spirit sing in me.

Seduce serpentine like Dove tears,
purple puddle, sunset dreams.

Controversial contradiction
that I am,
I know the people want Niles Rogers guitar strings.

But this sound in my head
and my hand
is crop cream chart topping.

Raspberry Corvette Breaks Careen
down my express way bumpin’ these hits.

I’m a Brown Skinned Amadaeus
with a Hendrix heart beating like
Bootsie baselines pickin’ out
James Brown’s afro,
while he does the mash potato with Fela
And his band, directed by Roy Ayers
And his hand, on Betty Davis’ derriere.

While Miles stands,
Horn handed blasting bullets over the bandstand,
making eavesdropping bystanders hit the floor.

Rick James don’t know about this shit.

I’m going to televise Revolution, 1984.
I’m going to toss this sledge hammering androgyny,
thru Computer Blue screens and
Hollow Wooded doors.

At that moment all will witness
what they have waited for.