He Lays on His Back

He lays on his back
And lets me love him.
I ask only that he let me climb
The space that separates
My soul from his,
His needs from mine
And that my kisses can wash away
Every real and imagined fear
That stands between us.
I trace our history with my tongue
Till I come to the place
Where the future waits.
We sing a song of praise
Then I taste
The unparalleled myths
That have centered on this.
The legacy of
The Black man’s cock.
With his hands in my hair
I’m thrown back in time…
I see my love hanging
From a big old tree.
His nakedness
Swinging in the breeze.
Blood can’t pass
Under a strangling rope.
His hands, his feet, his cock
Start to bloat.
Ya. That’s right.
Didn’t ya’ll know the last thing
A hanged man does
Is get a full on erection?
This is the scene
That drives the mob mad.
They fear they really want
What they never had.
Earthbound and hellbent
They’re left
While the cruxified return
To the peace of freedom
I watch my king ascend
And carry his seed. Our life in me.
Long shall we reign.
In awe and anger
The lost ones
Laugh and jeer
But in years to come
The noose would be around
The necks of their sons
Who’d be playing
At a sex game called
Auto erotic asphyxiation.
If a man can hang himself
Without killing himself,
He can have the most intense
Orgasm of his life.
If he lives.
1994 conservative MP
Found dead on his kitchen table
Wearing nothing but
Ladies stockings and a noose.
Chickens coming home to roost?
And always back to the horror
That wasn’t a dream
But rather a very real
Remembering.
Prompted by his daddy
Junior drapes a Confederate flag
From my hanged man’s staff.
Something to keep him from
Having to touch my love’s skin
As he dismembers
With a Hunting knife.
Something to wrap him up in.
Bring home and show
The little lady,
“This is what happens to niggers
Who step out of line. The only
Yella babies round this place
“Are gonna be mine”
He says this every time.
They take the shackles
Off my feet so I can cut
My love down.
His body falls.
And there he lays on his back
While I love him.
I ask only that I can climb
The space that separates
My soul from his.
His needs from mine
And that my kisses can wash away
Every real and imagined fear
That stands
Between us…

Vanessa Richards