Hands have waved from a podium
To the casualties of the Kenyan dream
For every one person who makes it
A thousand are left behind
Wave at these Kanyaris before they dip my parched soul in the calm waters of vanity
As I sow seeds in these concrete streets
But who is reaping?
Who is snitching when we are scheming?
Forget about hearts
Hands are the Midas touch!
Hands are God
Make life from dust
Hands are evil
They strip women in the streets
And rob their porches and strip them and throb their vaginas with dirty finger nails
The same hands upload those videos
For 15 seconds of Facebook fame
Hands are corrupt
They vote, take bribes
And lazy kids
Hands are sex organs
They caress and hold flowers
They masturbate bodies
Hands are death
They snatch wallets
Punch and pull triggers to shoot the Mike Browns of America
They choke-hold brothers in the dark alleys of the ghetto for supper
Hands are hypocrites
They clap for hymns
Clasp for prayer
And toss grenades in churches
Pretenders, these hands are!
They flag campaign posters
Then strike placards
Then machetes to chop off heads!
They hold a face to kiss after a wedding ring
They give the same face a black eye
Hands are holy
They count beads on Rosaries
They unwind and interlock for prayer
And pull a human being out of another
Hands are naughty
And somewhat uncouth
They grab bums in congested bus stations
And raise whips to spank sluts and slap cash on strippers
And chastise nuns
I hate hands!
They wipe bottoms
And feed mouths!
Hands are a mirror
A mirage of success
Hands that never raised in class
Now raise glasses in clubs
They never wrote correct answers in Arthmetic tests
Now they write checks
Hands are racists
Hands are Black but they have white palms
It's like good and evil
Making the soul of man a battle ground
Hands are Africa
They toil for blood diamonds in Sierraleone
So other half-African hands can wear a Rolex
And a gold chain
Hold a microphone
Put yo' hands up!
Put yo' motherf****g hands up, b***hes!