Quaint, Outlandish Heathen Gods Black Men Fashion

Father, Son, And Holy Ghost, So I Make An Idle Boast; Jesus Of The Twice-turned Cheek Lamb Of God, Although I Speak With My Mouth Thus, In My Heart Do I Play A Double Part.

Dame Poverty Gave Me My Name, And Pain Godfathered Me.

Whatever Lives Is Granted Breath But By The Grace And Sufferance Of Death.

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.

I Was Reared In The Conservative Atmosphere Of A Methodist Parsonage.