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Self-Portrait Sistah be riding her bike in Detroit From the eves of Eight Mile To the Gideon of Grand River Detroit, D-town, De Tois, Of three These streets are her trinity 8mile the father- Livernois the son- Grand River her holy ghost Pedaling past parking structures and sidewalk preachers Dodging broken glass like bullets To keep from puncturing her tires, Tired with mobility, with movement ‘Cause all that matters is motion Using her tires to keep afloat So she won’t sink into quicksand cement Like sidewalks that swallow you whole If you don’t keep pedaling So sistah be pumping fast past the past Using the speed of her ride To escape from that great divide That strip that separates the white folk From the West Side That un-imaginary line Where the war of North and South is still fought With exhaust fumes of factory lines And the flames from 67 fires It’s a 1-way route 2 further racial aggression Within 3 bodies of water 4 which we live, Work, judge, hate, bottle, package, and sell In a 5 day work week But I have a 6th sense That the only way we’ll make it To the 7th generation Is if we put these last 8 miles behind us So sistah be pedaling fast past the past Cruising down Livernois Cause that’s all that people can do: Live When rotting buildings and empty lots Are constant reminders Of how the dead haunt this city So sistah be pedaling down Livernois Cause that’s all that people are: Livin’ noise Persons- of sound Rhythm in movement Masters of motion And people be makin’ some noise in this city Raisin’ hell in this city Like ancestors before Quick jabs and daily scabs can’t quiet us And sistah be makin’ mad noise on that bike With Walkman wailing Never halting at heads turning Rubber burning She don’t wear no protective gear Cause sistah ain’t got no fear of her streets Just the price of living getting’ higher And the occasional flat tire But the edge of the shore is a sure sign of salvation In this desert D Cause sistah be pedaling down Grand River Shallow and deep, still and raging She rejoices when she reaches the water The blood of 22mil consecrated martyrs On this surface of loss, Jesus just walked But sistah, she be gliding across Like 747s in the sky Or skateboarders in July This river, ain’t a river of oil spills or showboats Slaves came from hell for a chance To cross this moat Then some got sent back Now, tell me… How do you bury that betrayal? How can you resist resentment? You pedal past it With all the muscle in your calves With all the strength in your soul Try to fill in the holes of a sadist system Without becoming sadist yourself See, Grand River ain’t made From asphalt or H2O It’s a concept conceived in the mind It tries to bind history to the present So we know that it’s still relevant So sistah be pedaling fast past the past Carrying visions of it with her To the next street, to fend off defeat Remembering is her mobility An added fourth to her trinity And right at the starting line Of her spiritual coast Is 8mile the father- Livernois the son- Grand River her holy ghost