Harambe; or, The Ape

Harambe the inquisitive Self Harambe the mangy dog Harambe the broken Spirit Harambe whose bones are my altar, scepter Harambe who in his jailhouse did rock Harambe whose name is communal labor Harambe who stared into clear blank eyes and intuited the nature of the Soul Harambe because Blake Harambe because Hattie Carroll Harambe because Truth in unintelligible letters, bleak Harambe because big black bullets pointed your way Harambe because Et tu, Brute? Harambe who constructed mental labyrinths out of paradise Harambe who was half divine Harambe who was half Man Harambe who was full Anima Mundi Harambe who was aped by the lollygagging necks and stiff roboticism of the masses Harambe who was memed within an inch of his exhumed life Harambe who was politicized Harambe who was poeticized, needlessly Harambe who stared down a Cincinnati sunrise just once upon arrival Harambe who could not take it Harambe who stayed inside all day Harambe who was struck by the immensity of small broken objects (especially children) Harambe who could not fathom my poetry, but wrote it all the same Harambe who did not die in vain Harambe whose voice will never taste his country Harambe who no amount of dicks held out will return his stagnant soul to his body again

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Written by

Droog

Chicago, Il

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