My Black God
is real as I could imagine
worrying about defective White People
vulnerable to skin cancer
and fading water-front real estate values
in His traumatic WhiteWashed Anthropocene.

My Black God
is strong as I could imagine
on my luckiest bipolar day
and lustiest bipartisan night.

My Black God
is Source and Soul
and, hopefully, humane
ReSource and RePurposing Spirit

(But, you know…
not necessarily always
business as usual Vanilla)

My Black God
celebrates sacred peak experiences
wherever these may be
nonviolently communioned
and found,
perhaps briefly bound,
with mutually informed consent
to insatiable surprises.

My Black God
holds no boundaries
to multicultural curiosity
about every co-passionate touch,
brown smell,
EarthMan tasty
randy thoughts
with age-appropriate visual stimulation,
simulations deep resounding
regeneratively physical
and mental wealth
of how Father’s Time flies
when having fecund fun
robustly resonant
overglowing
peak neurosystemic spasms,
rhythms,
punctuations,
postures,
positions
and cooperatively friendly repositions
climate and cultural adjustments
hoping for resilient regenerations

My Black God
of universally poignant
urgently cooperative physical health
aerobic exercise
verbal and not so much talking stretch
horizontal
and sometimes vertical dance
and compassionately cooperative care
not the least bit trauma giving
is also best climax receiving
sacred communion.

My Black God
follows this sacred Yang gift,
however briefly,
with holistically restored
unconditional warm regard
sacred sexual peace,
Informed and OutFlowing JustUs Justice
received and given,
driven toward

My Black God
of compassion’s AnthroScenic period
of ReStorative Justice
after a whole lotta
NonViolent Sacred,
sometimes flirtatious and sexy,
Communication.