WE RIDE

We ride on the backs and breast of those that have come before

On ancestor’s shoulders and great, great, great, daddy’s toes

With drops of frankincense and myrrh and rows of gold around our necks

We ride on ocean waves of blue blackness on top of undersea ancient temples imprinted

of our blue colored faces

We ride on Congo drum beats

with dancing moving hips and

breezy Blowing dreadlocks

on cowry shelled waist bead covered bellies

We ride on lion’s mane and canine teeth

On Elephant tusk and Zebra stripes

On library book covers

On wall filled Art Museum canvases

We ride in church,

in-between church pews and in the lines of church hymns

We ride on Egyptian tombs encased in limestone adorned with

(Us riding) in hieroglyphic text

We ride on guitar strings and thumb machines

In Paris, Korea, Alaska, and of course Mozambique

We ride through Southern towns…