The Day Team T and the Muscovites Played the Fillmore East
From where we stand it’s easy to see
The mass of people run down hill, so
Many blocked with steel shields &
Blows of heavy-wire. Cops break ribs
& necks & arms with their clubs.
Just another day.
Congress is strong on sanctions
& solid on Intelligence
To cross-examine the memo’s
Crafted scorn for the paucity
Of evidence gleefully supporting
Black Panther leader Huey.
It needed February in the hope
Of a Cathedral past grace
& solidarity with the Vietnamese aspiration
For self-inflicted SOUND wave intuition.
A friend of mine slipped a Bible
& sterilization certificate
Between his lips syncing
Team T and the Muscovites
At the Fillmore East, singing
These are people who aren’t Russians,
Believe me.
Some will call this treason, the Panther said.
Then the plainclothes men showed up,
Downplaying that Ruskies have intensified
Their FEMALES & Mobilization games athwart
The rivers frozen flowing north into Arctic seas.
For troops from Saigon next will ask for
rearguard actions and delaying tactics
in a litany of anecdotes long forgotten.
Again and the cop fared better,
Ribs out and neck and arms.
A police captain won the rest of this nonsense,
Leaving school where he stumbled with his allies
As student mobilization relently pressed forward,
Thanks, it was estimated, to over one million
Oakland freaks who turned $400 into oven fires
All on the day before the Market discouraged doing so again.
When he drove policemen in without instructions on the death rate, while narks raided Huey and the BPP’s dossier tainting the yellow truck that was leased early for Team T & the Muscovites in concert as the golden helicopter hovered over the yellow truck leased to a black student never to be allowed into evidence.
Huey’s peers ducked and jabbed at enemies with wild Jamaican foods.
He turned back the average bail,
Ducked, admitted he CLUBBED AND MACED
A vehicle used in refusing to fully punish
Team T & the Muscovites
For their improper sexual phone calls
& lyrics worthy of treasonous
&/or broom-closet costumes.
.
Photograph by D Young.
Poem by Minnie Bloom
studio arago 