Excerpt from 'There Are More Beautiful Things than Beyoncé'

There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé

By Morgan Parker

TIN HOUSE BOOKS

ISBN: 978-1-941040-53-9

ALL THEY WANT IS MY MONEY MY PUSSY MY BLOOD,

The President Has Never Said the Word Black,

Hottentot Venus,

Another Another Autumn in New York,

Poem on Beyoncé's Birthday,

Lush Life,

Beyoncé on the Line for Gaga,

We Don't Know When We Were Opened (Or, The Origin of the Universe),

My Vinyl Weighs a Ton,

Beyoncé is Sorry for What She Won't Feel,

Afro,

These Are Dangerous Times, Man,

Rebirth of Slick,

RoboBeyoncé,

Delicate and Jumpy,

Freaky Friday Starring Beyoncé and Lady Gaga,

13 Ways of Looking at a Black Girl,

The Book of Negroes,

The Gospel According to Her,

Black Woman With Chicken,

The Gospel of Jesus's Wife,

White Beyoncé,

The President's Wife,

Welcome to the Jungle,

Beyoncé, Touring in Asia, Breaks Down in a White Tee,

What Beyoncé Won't Say on a Shrink's Couch,

Ain't Misbehavin',

Untitled While Listening to Drake,

Beyoncé in Third Person,

Heaven Be a Xanax,

Beyoncé Celebrates Black History Month,

Earth Wind & Fire Reunion Tour 2013,

It's Getting Hot In Here So Take Off All Your Clothes,

Take a Walk on the Wild Side,

The Book of Revelation,

99 Problems,

Slouching Toward Beyoncé,

Let Me Handle My Business, Damn,

Beyoncé Prepares a Will,

Please Wait (Or, There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé),

Funeral for the Black Dog,

So What,

ALL THEY WANT IS MY MONEY MY PUSSY MY BLOOD

Black

Wife Swap,

which is designed to get back

at fathers, as westernized media

is often wont to do.

I don't know

when I got so punk rock

but when I catch

myself in the mirror I

feel stronger. So when

at five in the afternoon

something on my TV says

time is not on your side

I don't give any

shits at all. Instead I smoke

a joint like I'm

a teenager and eat a whole

box of cupcakes.

Stepping on leaves I get

first-night thrill.

Confuse the meanings

of castle and slum, exotic

and erotic. I bless

the dark, tuck

myself into a canyon

of steel. I breathe

dried honeysuckle

and hope. I live somewhere

imaginary.

Tell 'em B

I open my legs, throw my shades on like,

Divas gettin money. Hard as the boys.

Give me all

your little monsters and I will burn them up.

Give me your hand

and I will let you back this up.

Tonight I make a name for you.

after Mickalene Thomas

Good Times, bare legs, colors draped like

an afterthought. We bright enough to blind you.

Dear anyone, dear high heel metronome, white

noise, hush us shhhhh, hush us. We're artisanal

crafts, rare gems, bed of leafy bush you call

us superfood. Jeweled lips, we're rich

We're everyone. We have ideas and vaginas,

history and clothes and a mother. Portrait-ready

American Blues. Palm trees and back issues

of Jet, pink lotion, gin on ice, zebras, fig lipstick.

One day we learned to migrate. One day we studied

Mamma making her face. Bright new brown, scent of Nana

and cinnamon. Shadows of husbands and vineyards,

records curated to our allure, incense, unconcern.

Champagne is how the Xanax goes down, royal blue

reigning. We're begging anyone not to forget

we're turned on with control. We better homes and gardens.

We real grown. We garden of soiled panties.

We low hum of satisfaction. We is is is is is is is is

touch, touch, shine, a little taste. You're gonna

give us the love we need.

Free and Home into a crowd

but they only hear gold extensions.

I listen for prophecies

from my daughter's sticky mouth.

While I pick her hair, she cries.

I say, Never give them

what they want, when they want it.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, a Zulu

folktale warning against hunters drunk on Polo shirts and

Jägermeister, blueprints for building ergonomically perfect

dancers & athletes, the chords to what would have been

Michael's next song, a mule stuffed with diamonds & gold,

Miss Holiday's vocal chords, the jokes Dave Chapelle's

been crafting off-the-grid, sex & brown liquor intended

for distribution at Sunday Schools in white suburbs, or in

other words exactly what a white glove might expect to

find taped to my leg & swallowed down my gullet & locked

in my trunk & fogging my dirty mind & glowing like

treasure in my autopsy

Freaky Friday Starring Beyoncé and Lady Gaga

(Continues...)

There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé by

Excerpt from 'There Are More Beautiful Things than Beyoncé'

There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé

TIN HOUSE BOOKS

Contents