Gil Scott-Heron RIP
The Revolution finishes the shotgun
The Revolution oscillates the engine
The Revolution mourns the sphere
The Revolution opposes the pile of bones
The Revolution stirs the skull
The Revolution penetrates the octahedron
The Revolution needs the padlock
The Revolution operates the notepad
The Revolution jams the engine
The Revolution presumes the security camera
The Revolution populates the hammer
The Revolution orders the key
The Revolution goes the heart
May 28, 2011, selected from template output, generator: JanusNode.
I wasn’t a dedicated fan, but Gil Scott-Heron was always my idea of what a poet should be. I still remember the first time I heard “Whitey on the Moon”; me and my then-girlfriend were driving somewhere and it came on the radio just as we got there. We sat in her truck and listened til it was over because there really was no way we could turn it off. Simultaneously humorous, sorrowful, and angry. It was an attitude I found myself adopting frequently, in later years.