Before the Big Chill, There was the '60's

The revolution was fought on fractured street corners,

By every splintered group in the world--

The Black African United Alliance,

The United Amistad Brothers of Soledad,

The African Cobra Warriors--

Led by tawny curly haired field marshals

Cursing the drop of white blood cruising their hearts--

Brother Mobutu, Deputy Cinque,

Buford X, Abdul Elijah Montu.

Everyone had a storefront, printing press.

Africa was on the wall,

Mary Jane in the blood stream.

Battle fatigued soldiers

Hiding behind amendment-one,

Saluted Castro with a gnarled fist

Celebrated the day Nat Turner was born,

Plotted victory marches through slums,

Made sex with plump chicken-fat colored blondes.

Every corner was a command center,

But the end was nowhere to be sighted,

Because the means were too far scattered.

The boy soldiers are now men kissing forty's face,

Cursing the lesson they forgot to learn:

Without gravity, everything drifts