Calvin Walds
| FOUR POEMS

ON FUTURE (the rapper)

Ever notice how some rap beats sound like the soundtrack to a horror film all minor scores and rapid succession like constant f sharps bouncing back like some type of dissonance is harmony and then the bass drops and you’re just rolling side glances to the world at the stop light and slight head nod like naw im not going to kill you just stunting just driving I was trying to listen for a leitmotif in rap music and it sounded like a sounding that bounced off of concrete like I think people just wish they could speak that fast like most people wish they were just in on the music and maybe even a little bit of the pain and I mean who doesn’t want access to consciousness just unfurled and unrelenting and gross in starkness like streaks of mud crossed upon a white dress like can you be more taboo and unsettling just pure body maybe that’s it maybe the thickness of the voice is body voice is body it is not just sound what I mean is that future opens his mouth and future comes out of it it is a sounding of not thought but a physical sounding like a crawling out and escaping to some crazy scary beat like lets embrace the menace because its all jokes anyway like don the cape and scale the building tap the window and then crack up laughing a white man screams because its funny like maybe rap is super meta just grandiose commentary on the absurdity of it all like what if we’re all saying ‘but im not even really mad’ but we’re actually mad but we’ve been mad for forever so being mad is normal and anything beyond that is just fury and no one can walk around furious all day that’s like unhealthy and we don’t care if people get confused when we laugh because they didn’t even hear the joke like the joke is withstanding ‘insiders only’ but to be an insider you had to be born centuries ago we were all basically born centuries ago we inhabit that consciousness we are all the same person and time just occupies the form of disharmony and what im telling you is important sometimes life is just life and we just black and oppression is just normalized and you’re like damn he laid in the street for four hours just dead and you might even cry a little inside the bathroom because what else can you do but sleep and think about that man on the sidewalk in east harlem just peaceful.

AGUA OBSCURA

When his head is smashed against the window opening the glass pulled from submersion in tepid water the human officer pulling his head back gasps he pulls his head back upward to sky and with sharp breath he opens his eyes to the night sky against that scattered light he is not scared for there is black coupled with a whirling and gradation a peer upon sky at nightfall is to see an echo a glance upon skin and light we are here and there the sky is not blue it is black it is black it is black the universe is black

i invite you over &

you walk into murmuring and i plunge hiraeth into seawater to write as if there was no beginning no arrival no ship no ragged breath no answer from unspeaking tongues and you picked the bulbs too hard pricked your finger lobbied blood and i accuse you of limerence it’s a continuation you say a never ending epoch of false sanctuary and i want to borrow from incantations you say something about the repetition and we laugh at the ancestors drinking water as though they were starving. arises transcend the planes and you ask if i feel when the others are shot.

BLACK EFFUGIUM

click clack bang sound body sound blood body hit ground click clack bang bang ground three hours four hours three hours four hours hit ground body sound can life movement breath whisper glance liquid felt intangible

click clack im talkin about background sound in rap song click clack bang jungle beats baby

incommunicable known experienced moment — be fully translated into words? i think not for i feel therefore i am and this is why orality is so enticing why writing blackness in the language of music and image makes so much more sense. can i replicate touch skin brown taste salty like ocean water through texture? sight through noun?
can we should we can we imagine final breaths shocked eyes arrested heartbeats beat

pound pound









until stopped like future birthdays the original sound click- clack- gasp my inspiration was felt embodied it existed with i.