21:40 - i hear you breathing for me/ an embodied blues for megan williams
after performing and meditating on the most recent installation of "i hear you breath for me/ an embodied blues for megan williams" i wrote this...
1. she thinks she sees waterblood
steps pores wide with fear
her whiteness like magnified imagination
"and there was fake blood and a woman cut herself"
her neck (re)shocked red as she turns the corner
her mother can see the whole black woman unsliced
left hand trembling
2. we are not a/part
we are not a/part wearenota/part wearenota / part we arenota/ part
even if my last name is not williams even if i tell the story you choose to forget
even if the dollars come as drops instead of pours even if you dream a piece of
fabric is a brick wall even if i bang silence like a steel drum even if you wear
white male privlege like a badge of honor even if i make you remember what
you choose to forget even if the story incites a thick mucus to grow in the back
of your throat even if
3. when we hold fear like a lover and fold our tears into envelops that craddle our screams we pretend our necks are full of jazz and scorpio thunder we pretend our open parts are a diary of cinnamon sundays we pretend a shout is a shower of blessings we pretend plump hairs relaxed thin do not hold stories of our mothers and our mothers' mothers we pretend we can bury ourselves in books and lecutres and conferences and "study"
we pretend it is apart of our genetic makeup to be numb we pretend we can bury ourselves in good dick and good feelings and good wine and good deeds
we pretend it is apart of our genetic makeup to be bottomless we pretend we can bury ourselves in the blindness of never more we pretend we have paralized tonsils we pretend flesh does not burn and that we have forgotten how to decode black girl pain like it is not an opera written in our skin/tone
4. tattle tell tit your tongue will be slit and every little boy in town will have a little bit
- mama audre lorde
5. and the line i forgot...
mary had a little lamb little lamb little lamb
mary had a little lamb whose fleece was whiiiiiii whhhhhhhhhhhh whhhhhhhhhhhi
whhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite as snow
-remixed nursery rhyme
6. after we wrap ourselves like a cacoon we are a dictionary of backs and fingers and southern sea sways we infuse our beating bodies into a blank space we are not mourning but recharging and thanking ourselves for continuing the journey
7. the brothers pray approach slowly contemplate some revolutionary shit pray request hugs dance their frustration dance their honesty about not knowing what to do i am thankful for the stillness of their eyes and how they listen with their palms
