mute…no?

assassination of heroics

Your point of heroics you so excitingly take as risk
when it just means you’re a jackass, just took six bullets to the heart,
from a gun loaded with somebody’s unmentioned soul.
When your first word, first verb of action, should of penetrated,
cut through, bust somebody’s vessel, it left a flesh wound,
somebody took it and made you a mute,
because you won’t listening to the first verse of Do it Now: 
The first cut should be the deepest, to penetrate
No longer linked to nobody, somebody is the shit now.
Somebody won’t be silhouetted curses of ain’t it a dream
won’t be the first thing tagged as a backlash
ricocheted as pastime masquerades, as a nigger being lynched on a page.
Ain’t it made easy regular, unmade uneasy irregular
in whichever mode of horror, so subtly exhausted, so abruptly gassed-out.


From Mos Def’s Black on Both Sides album

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