Swing Praxis
In which considering the lack
Of a truly beautiful, violent revolution
We establish ourselves as mediums for change
Change which must accumulate
Yo maximum impact and speed
Like rhythm
And rhythm
Is a unit of meaning
Of feeling
Of being
And there are ways
To withstand sustained conflict
But guns are the teeth of democracy
Swing praxis
We must not easily be possessed
By what is just the crudest element of a given plan
Either we vote or protest or tremble or march or fight
But either way it will soon be hard to be 'cool'
And black at the same time
Swing praxis
It is self-evident
That we stand at the edge of a great victory
Of which we are confident
That we have been wounded in battle
But it's too late to be hurt
It's too late to turn back now!
So go on, go on, bring fire music
With harmonic cycles of hymn rhythm
And we will navigate the fear of death
Go deep in the jungles of deceit and concrete
And see how we are murdered on these streets
Or be real and go back to the old country
Go down in the valley and see how my people have built
Such beautyfull homes in the dirt
See how only secular sound and the mutability
And resilience of black spirit duality
Can liberate them
From history
Swing praxis
Come with the hard bop
And catch the vision
Jazz is a river of vigorous spirits
Come like Lightning Hopkins
With the Akpala hip shake
Come and dance the Juba
With the kick and step
And the arms akimbo
Swing
As method
As action
As rubric
As heritage
As a black and combative orchestra
With terrible bees
And whistles and teeth
Swing praxis
Swing praxis
Swing as method
Swing as a template for revolution