The Second Coming of Howard Zinn (Edward's 2/30)

The Second Coming of Howard Zinn (Edward's 2/30)

My Brother is the second coming of Howard Zinn
But he forgot to highlight the ending of a people’s history
He is more focused
On his own Apocalypse
And there’s no divine source of my visions
I know this
Without the prophets and
The royal flush of tarot cards
My Brother only feels Divine Rights
When he boxes with God
There’s no kingdom
For Divinity’s punching bag
No shrine
For knowing the cinematography of pulp fiction
Better than Quentin
Tarantino
No place in the sky
For not getting father
To quit them cigs and
When dad was bare from chemo
I saw in my Brother’s eyes
The world Passover
But no one
Sung Hebrew hymns
So my Brother doesn’t take
Leaps of faith
Faith leaps from him
There is a suicidal congregation
Diving from the skyscrapers
Of his ambition
But they don’t have to fall far
For there’s already been demolition

He found his first wife in the charred piles
Of Salem witch trials
Bathed her in cast iron pots
Made her bed from the straw
Of her broomstick
But she didn’t stay cuz
She preferred the witch’s cottage
Over colleges
Couldn’t sit back and watch as
He pretended to be a Georgetown law student
Masquerading with the mask of the Hoya mascot
Charadin in Armani suits, toying with ascots
But he never wanted to be corporate lawyer
And I won’t ask, “Whatever happen to the store-clerk warrior?”
Cuz if God spoke his reincarnation into existence
He would do so with a speech impediment
Each of God’s children is unique and heaven sent
But my Brother’s potential was returned to sender
And I never seen him address God
Cuz the moon is Jah’s P.O. Box
And every glass ceiling is a lunar eclipse
Allah won’t use the o-zone as a peephole
And see my Brother
See, my Brother
Atlas was also an invisible man
We’ve been brainwashed to believe
The Sun has gravitational pull over the Earth
And my Brother is playin’ temp for Atlas
(Make this world orbit the universe
Don’t just stand there
Letting it break your back )

Just remember
Revelations is only a metaphor for global warming
And my Brother’s untapped potential
Climate change of his second marriage
Is making the architecture of his apartment
Look more like hell every day
The toppling of the 5 pillars of Islam
His dreams get sleep on like pillows and his mom
Pops pills so his song
Is a battle song
Played with a bass line; 7 trumpets
In Babylon
If the lord is our Sheppard
Is he using my Brother’s rejections
As cattle prongs?
Is my Brother’s life the result of
God being passive aggressive
Because he’s mad at genius?
God being too lazy to complete his masterpieces?
My Brother is just one prayer away
From being Nirvana’s magnum opus
From his legacy being found in the pages of old books
Written as the last Viking to reach Valhalla
But I never looked at my Brother
As an unfinished Vincent van Gogh
I want the sun to blemish his skin and
Let the tan show
He pales in comparison to no one
No matter how blotched and flawed
Failing to defeat the 7-headed beast
With only one guillotine
He’s done what he could

They say
“Only God can judge you”
But what happens
When you stop believin in He who is critiquing
And we start seein Buddha as bulimic
And the weight of the creator
Doesn’t outweigh the
Failures and they tell you
Wait
For the Promised Landed
Like it’s 40 acres and a mule that aint comin
And life is empty…death turned inside out
So my Brother lives life waiting for it
To collapse into itself
Waiting to be healed

Between meditation and medic station
Between shaman and “amen”