51 Psalm

Detroit you have been so good to me,

now the hands of tribes wipe clean the thoughts and pride of thee.

Let my broken bones rejoice,

Foreigners pay the price of a our nations choice.

Let my broken bones rejoice,

One day all will price out sins calm collective noise.

Justice, hear old melodies, built then deconstructed

by old photography, held by new with their valor interrupted.

My industry points only to me echoed by a name far away hollered

by the publics dollar hung now around presidents emerged collar.

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1 comment
  1. Sonya said:

    so you’re leaving?

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