My people you were something fucking fine
On the morning of the first arrests

Yes, we read each other's lips and said one word four times
and laughed four times in a loving repetition

and now our boys go outside and are given back in the morning
like a small change—

Yes, the language of a country:
hands that take you out of your mother

I am yelling and my neighbors think I am laughing
Helicopters eyeball us like we are pig's feet in a jar

And whoever listens to me
thank you for the feather on my tongue

thank you for our argument that ends
thank you for my deafness, Lord, such fire

from a match you never lit.