front row at Aretha's funeral
Star-struck, in childlike
awe of celestial
Voices, silver tongues;
I spent seven hours
glued to the screen—
back in the Baptist Church,
Celebrating, honoring the
humanitarian, North Star
Shero—genius in her field!
What a day, imbibing
Mighty Black Music!
Joyful noise, Lake Michigan-
sized magnet, gathering forces
elbow to elbow—
Enemies, Orange Age
Allies on the clock…
Basking in reflected light,
Assassins, informants, jailers,
Mouthpieces, mass murderers,
super predators, slutty professors
came riding, riding, riding, riding
bare-back, backwards on a
Donkey to The D.
Riding in corporate coats
of many logos—then
Limboing their way
Center stage, tracking
donkey dung down the
red carpet; playing
our emotions, our
Souls, our strength—
our Achilles’ heel
like plastic kazoos:
resurrecting the
Democratic Party…
© 2018. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
Our poet in residence, Raymond Nat Turner is an acclaimed performing artist. Find much more of his work at http://upsurgejazz.com.
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“So the calypso ceases to be entertainment on a trivial level and becomes a vehicle whereby the society is going back and searching for its soul.”
