de mayor of harlem, still
for david hendersonu are still de mayor of harlem; the
world echoes in yr lush voice still
haunt harlem’s streets in the
darkest part of shadow, where the
source of light is completely
concealed. u are the occulting body,
the go-between & translator for
those who prowl urban mindscapes
hungry & the intrepid few who want
to know about them. because u
know, have lively lived thru’
america’s permutations, those
sequences wherein human events
occur at best once, from new york
to berkeley, u can interpret for
those who have no vision outside
of center or those whose hyperopia
prevents them from seeing anything
up close &personal.
u still speak the language of the
moment & line the cages of yr
verse with it. u still point to the
light with yr sharp-pointed lifegiving
shock poems or those with the
dazzling waves & curls & cutbacks
of walter payton sweetness that
generate powerful momentum,
that upon reading make us glow/
grow, incandescent testimonies
against a dark present.
Joseph McNair; 2009
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