R.E.V.U.L.S.I.O.N.
The Jim Yoshii Pile Up
your eyes are open in the dark.
your mind is racing like you heart.
with the air around you cooling,
you see my lips are moving but you cannot hear.
you do not, do not need to hear.
and to cap this perfect day,
we will send a smile the way of all the
people who mistrust us,
the ones who want to clock us,
the men who advertise it,
the customer who buys it,
and the hot black blood.
the kind of temporary worth that tears a heart in two,
that brings me back to you,
picks us apart.
there's so many more of us than there are of them,
an easy target when I miss the mark.
R-E-V-U-L-S-I-O-N
that's where my end and I will meet one day:
at the hands of the police.
the way they used to grind our faces in the ground,
safe as suburbs, sick and sound,
so untouchable.
the kind of temporary worth that tears a heart in two,
that brings me back to you,
picks us apart.
there's so many more of us than there are of them,
an easy target when I inevitably miss the mark.
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