The Wake

Last night I saw the devil: a cockeyed, cone-headed demon his face contorted from the turmoil of the Orishas that he daily dishonors with his vile contempt for humanity.

His ubiquitous beats, as impotent as his will for sustained oppression, cry out in shame with every slap of the demon’s swollen, calloused hands who steal from the innocent, who defiles his fellow man.