These Kingdoms of Ours by Derek JG Williams



— after Jean-Michel Basquiat

Their dimensions trouble (Saturn) king Alphonso king Picasso (speak) king Miles speak to (me) kings Cash & Pleasure their halos stacked & (smudged) kings Johnson & Clay king Parker king Dextrose king Pecho (mine own) young Kings die (young) old Kings die (old) grand feats trouble my (sleep) how to flee (wakefulness) how to liberate (my skull) the devil would be king (deposed) bones waving beneath skin augur a smattering of (boos) king Tyson (mine) kings Berryman & Stanford (mine own) king Kunitz (wisest) kings Kanye & Jay spit-ballers burning up the news (cycle) 24-hour gossip (fest) but I summon great (game) kings Hustle & Grit all flashbang (rhetoric) crowns gather the body’s (light) spinning in each weightless (point) the moon crowned by (stars) much safer to be prince for Kings die (terrifically) heads cleaved from (necks) necks bound by (rope) arms made supple (pincushions) too Kings are (exiled) swollen & (unfamiliar) bruised & (bayoneted) treasured light lifting their (brows) remain our best (angels) the halo’s (afterimage) its refusal to fade.