By Paul Goodman
No, ah cain't afford to get a hard-on, boss,
it cost a nigger money to screw
an ah cain't make a livin in dis town
count o dis yere Jim Crow.
So ah sits here out o mischief in de sun
an meditatin dis an dat
jes' avoidin any lil fancy
as is liable to get my nuts hot.
But if yo wanna fuck me, sho,
ah likes to feel a white man's push
as got a job an ain't ascairt
to dirty yo pants cause yo can wash.
To make me feel dat ah belong
white man's cock is better'n pot
an it usually don' cos' nuthin
which usually is what ah got.
De river's bright today, ain't it?
it hot in de back o dis yere truck.
Jes' shove it in. Ah recollec'
when ah was a kid ah had a big cock.
My mammy when her knees was spread
an she solid wi' dat man
she said dat she at rest in Jesus
like a turnip in de groun'.
An when yo push it in an out,
boss o New York town,
ah be so happy an belongin
like dat turnip in de groun'.
Lyin yere grinnin an watchin de river
fo company while ah gets fuck
is jes' like home where I was born,
some niggers dey got all de luck.
Ship of Fools press Exhibition: Mesopotamia - Some pages from *Mesopotamia*, 1987. Due for re-publication. (Text is part of *Twentieth Century Blues *and also in *History or Sleep.*) *Mesopotamia* w...
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