Warning: Tiger

Listen to that roar of stripes -
Black soot-mouthed
And out
For the blood of the traumatized
Lured into the safety
Of trigger-trapped places
Without warning.

Untamed

Be free, be wild, be pure -
Go wear out your genes:
There is no cure for this life.

Climb to the topmost leaves
Of the sweetest trees;
Come breathe your wishes on the wind.

Imagine your creations singing
In chocolate clouds. They echo
In infinite murmurs of imagination.

Be free, be wild, be pure -
Go live your dreams:
There is no one cure for this paradise.

Race to Erase Me

To the parlour we slink
With skin as thin as silk,
To become as dark as mink fur:
Gone out like an oil spill at midnight.

Tat me asian like a lemon going sour.
Tat me african like a raisin going sweet.
Tat me caucasian like good milk gone bad.
Tat me until blood runs deep with smudges.

From the pain parlour we stagger,
Skin riddled bloody and jagged,
We’re scarred illustrations, with a swagger:
Embracing kin, to be men without skin.

Soft canvas surfaces, colorful scabs,
Rush as one to throw light on our blindness.