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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


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