Lord Knows by Kwame Oposu-Duku

It gets messy underneath the veil
when the strength it takes to be
can zap the moisture from your skin,
and all you want is to be held to the
breast of a beautiful being and never let go
while the beautiful people sing,


‘I hope your new soul remains pure!


And lord knows what we lose
once we believe we are clean, how purity
breeds atrocity like terriers in heat,
why, like a flock of pigeons circling
a rooftop, lord, we know not why we do.
And lord knows we’re heavy with
the weight of time, and that too many
times, we died before we began,
that every prayer is a vanity, every
god oblivious to our cries.
What else now but to speak plainly:
Lord, we curse this devilful motherfucker to the
ground. Let us march on cities until they
crumble, blasting
Miles Smiles as loud
as the speakers will bear, to tell them
how even in that moment,
which would feel to them so dark and unrelenting,
there could be infinite beauty
if they would allow themselves to feel it.

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