CLOCKING Don Garner Hard in the Temple with my Combination Lock at Buena Vista Middle

I crash the metal into your big forehead

You faint as dead, you fall among the Philistines

All appalled

You burn an offering to reconcile

I find it vile, it burns my nostrils

I am pressed down by my only, only crown

You were twelve years old and terrified

Of getting circumcised, Curtains of Gold

It's kind of funny the stakes being so high

Too great to heavy to get behind

We bore the ire of seven sets of eyes

Love's paid gaze, administrators crushed us

Between their caring thighs

They ferried us across a lake of fire, our own desires

They bade us all to close our eyes, we couldn't

Feel the heat they swore was there keeping us all afloat

I was twelve years old and terrified

Of lifting my eyes from the Blacktop of Gold

Upon the solid rock I strove to stand

But I fell buried in the Sands of Love

Oh Mrs. Greenlee, what did you hate in me?

What did I hate in you?

What does love even look like? Can you try

To sketch it? Pass me the paper under the table

Oh Don Garner, how we courted dishonor

God six grade was a slaughter

We were lambs led, we were led lambs

God six grade was a slaughter

God six grade was a slaughter