A Open Letter to Aloe Vera, Shea Butter, and being sufficient hydrated”

the sunlight dances off my black skin
like twinkling stars in the night sky
smooth & silent inherited authority
in my complex complexion

thank you.


To Critiques, Non-Believers, Politicians, Journalists, and all other Sanctimonious Assholes

the hardest thing to say sometimes is

I Love You

in spite of every internal impulse to despise
every inclination to throw white hot coals
at your head, neck, and chest

I Love You

Wish I could convince you to stop what you are doing
and make better decisions but I suppose you
would tell me the same thing

We will do better. We will love better.
Not because I need you
or support your treachery

but because the God I serve is here to save you
and it is required that I love you better
till you are able to be better
so that my love doesn’t taste like
licked dirty astray, swallowed bleach water,
and rotted hamburger meat when I pronounce it.

I am sorry that I don’t know how to love you
ashamed at my lack of divinity with the one commodity
I am bestowed to give freely

I Love You
because Jesus requires me too & I need to stop being
forced to assert our connection and just accept
you are injured, hurting, and in need
like we all are
but too much like you to admit it.

co-sponsored bills

they raised the fines for littering
but won’t arrest people for Adultery
even though it’s a felony in Wisconsin

propaganda and conspiracy
false allegations & swindlers
all before my first cup of coffee
each day…

Death on the radio
like death is on the corners

shoot outs under the bright lights
of gas stations
like cameras don’t exist
trying to go viral
but going to prison first
World Star!
Till everyone is a witness
seldom a hero
rolling along like pigs to the slaughter
comparing celebrity with worth
but bacon & pig feet
come from the same dead hog

it’s all too much to bare sometimes

Breaking Kayfabe

a masquerade
the world is a masquerade
with all of the celebrations & circumstance
it feels like a bowl of plastic fruit, sometimes

this friendship or that acquaintance
we marionette closeness
looking for soft spaces in each others backs
for knife wounds
forgiveness & mercy
are foreign languages
even pity is parsed out like rations
thrown from passing helicopters
at a distance
far enough to escape contraction

Love wouldn’t know most of us by name
and though Jesus isn’t on social media
his representatives are worse than Russian operatives
sowing dissension among the Gentiles & showing off their possessions to seem important

false pride is at all time highs
deceit, contempt, and wrath on display
a whole liar, a coward, or an out-right fool
has access to your mind through a tiny camera
and we circulate the virus
till everyone gets to be better than someone
we don’t even know
we entertain the train wrecks
and watch police man still kill black men
on the news & only half know the officers name
after the trial dates are over

we horde knowledge & commodify creativity
you need money to know something in a place
that targets the stupid & preys on the weak
It’s after you were a student
you pay your student loans
the money you owe for the ability to be smarter
and God forbid you catch death somewhere
they will leave your body cold on a slab
if you can’t afford your bills

America ain’t ready for socialism
but racism and sexism and misplaced ambition
are passed out like FEMA checks or bombs

get out of line they will find a way to pay for more bombs
to drop and destroy the atmosphere and water supply
while they still got lead in the water in Flint & Milwaukee
but they have intentions on fixing it but making money
is the priority besides someone has to pay
for these fast food buffets
they have at the White House, or so I am told.

National Poetry Month

poems are like unaltered photographs,
held breaths, and sculptures
when at their best

other times poems are like bleach drinking water,
lies that stain your inside voice, and curses instead of forgiveness

be careful where you get your poems
be cautious who you give your heart too
be aware that everyone isn’t for the right thing

every brother ain’t a brother
every poem isn’t poetry
but even at it’s worst like broken father figures
it can teach you what you don’t want to be…


how long will it take for the cave drawings to disappear?

will the hieroglyphics ever fade?

will the paper on the Constitution
no matter how we fight to conserve it
eventually turn back into ashes

carbon based floating on a rock out in space clinging to the light
from a tiny ball of gas trying to make sense of the senseless
& hoping there is a creator smart enough to keep

that burning orb floating…