PASTICHE LUMUMBA

Now inclined further—for he revels in exigence—is the labor of glory’s complement, paralyzed at gunpowder’s spree.

And in debt to what precipitous lucidity is the parcel unmolested, the gem free of cleavage, intention unmistaken?

Stagnant and unenviable this circumstance: the skin bathes in a pulsing, narcotic anxiety. The heart, a vertiginous snowball, commiserates in its freefall with impotent lungs, and a passive liver, and with costive entrails. The languid spirit quiet in counsel with impetuous genitals.

-Lumumba 2012

“The traders are creators of unreasonable desires. Where the priest fails to make his victims willing slaves and the soldier is impotent to make living slaves, his violence only producing dead bodies, the trader enslaves the will itself, and men are led to want their own enslavement, thinking it is only the pleasure of owning things they want.”

-Ayi Kwei Armah (Two Thousand Seasons)