Slavery

Ma had Anita on KJLH, beans in the pot, bleach in the pale L.A. haze You had cherry ChapStick, I had Metro-pass lint, talking big from a broke-ass place Slauson in a Sunday glow, swap-meet incense, whispers sitting warm on your porch I said, “one day, ocean-view,” you said, “fool, buy me lunch before you price a Porsche” Pop hit fire camp, orange on his back, ash in the duffel, cough in the coat County wrote hero in a caption, paid him crumbs, then expected a quote Granny kept Black Jesus over pink slips, EBT folded by gospel tapes Said, “don’t let heaven come with late fees,” I didn’t hear it till the love got late You hummed Sade by the laundromat, thunder on plexi, perfume in the rain I was all “trust me, we gon’ be up,” you just looked like you knew about pain Rent came dressed in Sunday manners, then talked pitbull by Monday noon Every little dream had a surcharge on it, every blessing came with a wound I learned love in the low light, learned loss where the rose-pink paper lay Learned “free” was a word they rent back with interest and a service delay You touched my jaw, said, “don’t go bitter,” I said, “nah, baby, I’m cool” Then the world put velvet on a muzzle and called that shit a rule Don’t ask why the gold make me nervous Every bright thing got a body under the surface They never say the word They just weigh the work Put silk on the hurt Put Sunday on the dirt Call it a dream Call it a deal Call it grace I know what owns you by the look on your face Cupertino sell seraphim glass, Katanga coughs cobalt into battery prayers Little boy blue at the pit for a future he can’t touch, keynote calling it care Doha got Kafala in a drawer, passport hostage to marble and air Pettifogger palaver so pretty, mop water knows who ain’t there Prop Six died quiet, no ballyhoo, no drumline, no wreath for the burn Fire line full of prison blues, California claps when the hills don’t turn Thirteenth got velvet on a trapdoor, whole courtroom acting brand new Like the law don’t talk bilingual — silk for the rich, spit for the accused Company store learned UX now, gizmo got grace with the APR grin Buy now, bleed later, motherfucker — same plantation with a login Boss talk family, bank talk mercy, landlord talk “we understand” Everybody wants tomorrow off your back with a soft voice and a harder plan I ain’t selling heaven with a coupon, no candle, no panacea perfume I bring facts with the flowers, bring the price tag inside the room I want porch light, warm rice, your voice in the back, that ordinary bloom But I can’t love you blind while the machine keeps flirting with doom Don’t ask why the gold make me nervous Every bright thing got a body under the surface They never say the word They just weigh the work Put silk on the hurt Put Sunday on the dirt Call it a dream Call it a deal Call it grace I know what owns you by the look on your face They never say the word They just weigh the work Call it grace I know what owns you by the look on your face Call it grace I know what owns you by the look on your face Slavery