Lee Bains Iii & The Glory Fires Breaking It Down!
The sanctuary inhaled Ibrahim's quiet
Intercession
For Palestine's displaced, detained and dead
Through teachers' gasps, the plea took wing
To the rafters
Its echo settling onto our stooped small heads
And arced over the rough gray blocks
To the cell that held Dr. King
The doors swung open
And the bell did ring
All the children, breaking it down
Come on, children. Break it down
Inside a vine-eaten warehouse
Under rust-soured towers
Distorted truth buzzing through a busted P.A.,
Sons and daughters of bankers and farmers
Miners and lawyers
Eyes shut and hollering, hips all asway
In sweating hope, clinging to each other
Like flesh to the bone
That they'll be able to rise up and walk
Without having to leave home
All the children, breaking it down
Come on, children. Break it down
Crowned with a chain of wildflowers
Plucked from midfield
He stands among sunlit pillars of gnats
And, draped in the jake-brake chattering of I-20
He twists his jersey up around his narrow white chest
And throws his shaggy head back
And the rowdy counsel of laughing black boys
Clap and shout:
“Cotton candy, sweet as gold!”
He rolls his hips and grins wildly
As the other team, from over the mountain
Points and sneers and spits and moves in close
But, like a vision, the host draws round about him
Arms like wings, voice like trumpets, Rasheed bows up
He says: "You're on the Eastside now
You f..ck with him; you f..ck with us."
All the children, breaking it down
Come on, children. Break it down