chesed from Modern Myth by Sister Ivy

Push, push me, push me to
push me to the edge, I say push me.
Push me till my insides scramble
to eke out as atman, to catch
into a napkin, to crumble ’til dry.

Push, push me, push me to,
push me to the edge, I say push me.
This turbulence exalts a bland stereotype,
so pure, so white,
since I knocked off the Burgundy ties
with the rest of the mud mask
to show you no wrinkles.

Say you shoulda, say you shoulda, say shoulda died
Shoulda died young if you didn’t want no age to mark you.
Instead you make, make another, make another world
make another world do it for you;
An infinite third world, an army, invisible
(Divisible ,infiinite, angel blood),
their palms a perfect, porcelain type of clean.

Push me ’til I can’t be sweet
and I will drip my bitter drops
on your tongue, tasteless and true-
see through your veneers, alligator tears,
mirage of love.

Casanova, trickster, my love is bigger
Let me hang on to it ’til it’s grown
large enough to swallow you whole.
Go ahead and push, push me
push me to, push me to the edge.

• Neo-Soul
• Progressive Soul
• R&B/Soul
• Surrealistic
• soul-jazz
• Asheville