Jan
14
, said the shotgun to the head
by Saul Williams
she had eyes
like two turntables
mix(h)er
in between
my dreams and reality
blend in
ancient themes
the bass is of isis
(basis)
cross-faded to ankh
the beat drops
like a cliff
over looking
my heart
and you
never loved her
for what she
possessed
you powdered
her face
and came
on her
head dress
oil slicked feathers, putrid stenched water bed
“mother nature’s a whore,” said the shotgun to the head.