I recently came across this video in my Youtube Channel. For some reason, it was set to private. This was a long time ago. I believe at Color Theory, a reading held at Pangea World Theater near Lyndale and Lake in Uptown Minneapolis.
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Two hours – To pack 20 years
For 2 days – That could last 20 years
What are you going to take?
Ra! Ratata ta. Ratata, ratata, ratata ta
At a distance you hear:
Brothers turned bounty hunters
They’re chanting death hymns
Ra!
They’re waving your number
Ratata ta
There are hands
Ra!
In need of your hands
Ratata ta!
Feet
Ra!
That need your feet
Ratata ta!
And you only have two and two
Not enough to give.
What are you going to take?
Ra! Ratata ta! Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
Rumors of war
Blowing through the air
Condensed and congealed
On the 10th day – of Ramadan – that year
We left school – early
Chasing – up the hill – after – our teachers left us
Back in town names of children littered the air
Similar to late evening bedtime calls
Only, the sun was just approaching noon
My new Nike sneakers – saved up a whole year to buy those
Tied the laces around my ankles
A tank top I got just a week before – I never got those
As we speak they are hanging over my New Edition poster
Just like my bicycle
Because in the tire the air was low
My favorite cassette featuring my favorite singer
In the player under my bed
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
You run toward those things
You can easily fit on your body, in your pockets, in a bag
But what you really want to take are the heavy things:
Like the friends and family that made you
Feel all right…when you felt all wrong
Deeply rooted things:
Like the rock by the river
Where your father first introduced himself to your mother
Sentimental things
The tree your grandfather gave his wife
Easily forgettable things
Her picture
The only one she ever took
This is where she died
Down the street from this very house
Where she lived
And your father was born
What is the difference between death and leaving home
When home is the only world you have ever known?
Some took their door frames
Cooking pots, few cents tied in a lappa
With all their children’s names
If a refrigerator was your livelihood, you would
Try to tote it too
If they killed you…
You would have been dead without it anyway
Ra! Ratata ta! Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
You should
Take a fistful of clay
Mixed with rain
Bottle the air
Roll the streets
Lock in the smoke
Take a panoramic view
Store it behind your eyes
Remember the stories
Commit them to your vocabulary
Ask your friends – to forgive you
Your family – I love you…
But you don’t
Because hope is blinding
It’d fool you every time
Instead you tell yourself: nothing is happening
Just disgruntled children standing up to God
That’s why they are mostly shooting to the sky
When they level their barrels…
Angels die
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta
How do you say good bye forever?
When soon may be never
How do you say see you then?
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta
They are chanting death hymns
Ra!
And waving your number
Ratata ta!
There are hands
Ra!
In need of your hands
Ratata ta!
Mbalu
Ra!
Forget the refrigerator
Ratata ta!
Alliue
Ra!
Here are my children
Ratata ta!
Momedi
Ra!
See you tomorrow
Ratata, ratata, ratata ta!
Two hours – To pack 20 years
For 2 days – That could last 20 years
What are you going to take?
Patata patata patata pata pata
Patata patata patata pata pata
By the time you realize, it’s too late
But it’s not what you can fit in a bag
It’s what you keep in your heart
That pumps through your veins
Ooze out your pores
We wear it in our skin
In our thoughts
In our words
20 years
20 thousand miles away
It’s the only way we keep from falling apart
We are survivals
Harvesters of corn where it don’t rain
Strong enough
To hold our G force intact
Between two suns
Our sons have two shoes too big to fill
And the Atlantic is too wide to field
But thankfully we have big hands to ferry them across the divide
