Saturday, October 8, 2011

Senator Devane King of Alabama

Senator DeVane King of Alabama

rotting delta pariah-hood—
evocative of old weariness
and the death he wished for…

the old dying senator—
dead in cuba, buchanan's
lover, fag vice-president

but for now he lived—
in a swanky beltway mansion
full of young dinge slaves...

while my black race—
sweated in the hot cane fields,
I served my master in bed.

I was a young mandingo—
who'd die in the shade under
mosquito netting wad by wad.

why should I want to—
sweat in the fields when all
I had to do was come in style.

ancient & accursed lips—
wanting to know me and all
the carib cum in my big cock.

without moving below—
bending from my hips forward
violently like a striking snake.

senator devane king from—
alabama wasn’t deceiving anybody
tho, young negroes in his bed.

the whole beltway knew—
the butler, the horsemen, even
the valets, cute colored youths.

it sprang outta me—
flinging myself backwards
over the edge of the bed.

the old senator’s pale lips—
skin pallid and deadlooking,
his tragic, foreknowing eyes.

“maybe in a hundred—
or two hundred years the south
will rule america, but not now…”

I jerked back, shooting it—
the senator ogling in amazement,
pity & outrage, sucking me off.

it was then that I pretended—
my loins were a striking snake
full of poisonous cum for a king.

my blood rushed thru me—
a rising rocket’s gush of sparks
blackness oozing outta me.

leaning back in bed—
my black & blue dickhead
full of bugles, sabers, hooves.

the balding senator’s head—
seemingly surprised by each
gob & blob of sewage effluent.

sucking all my memory—
outta me, my plantation youth,
african boyhood, my babypaste.

black male sex slavery—
one of the overlooked secrets,
deep south discrepancies.

the purpose of these notes—
simply to notify the reader that
delta colored contradictions existed.

king jerked me off slowly—
getting the last squeeze of spluge
the last trembling jizzlette of cum.

senator king was a queen—
preferring young darkest dinge
male hyacinths from mobile.

“i’m in love with you, my son”—
“no you aint” i said to myself since
i was just a nigger he sucked off.

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