It's not you, blue-eyed brother.
It's not you, long-knived one.
Nor You, tender, sweetly parting my thighs.
I am spread eagled, bound.
Slave to the almighty dollar—Capital Punishment.
(The condition in which the whip
becomes an extension of the arm
swinging innocently by your side as
you walk to work.)
—by Linda Thomas
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