“Know just how I feel” or “twitter middle fingers”

Melting ice sculptures,
Grey strands in dreadlocks,
The tide turning back into Ocean.

Be easy,

That beauty you hold on to fades.
The Karma that created you
watches and remembers
counts collateral damage.
Weighs innocent victims
the same as murder.

Smoke & instagram filters
can’t hold back the water forever.
Water like time accumulates
and fits the forms you put it in.
They won’t remember who you used to be
if who you are is vicious & prowling for victims.

Lose your immaturity
fight for your innocence
for fear fights truth for attention.

Be less afraid & more mature
it can save you.

I will not save you.

Drown in your own devices,
would bore holes in the life raft puncture the life jacket
find out how well you can swim.

home or drown,
I will not save you
if the price of friendship is daggers.

Don’t look for my hand

when the tide finds you
it will find you it finds everyone.

Karma remembers

The small things & the atomic bombs

The same.

The principle is far more important
then you think,
you don’t think
before you
spend the currency of safe spirits
that surrounds you.

but Regret nothing

Be confident

It suits you.

till the overturned masthead
hits you unexpected
with no one there to help you
but the Karma you call out to
trying to tread water till help arrives
You will search your memory
for everyone who ever was kind to you.

I will not save you.
Besides you wouldn’t let me
knowing how deep inside
I wish you would drown.

A Social Media Sermon

in a humble attempt
to convert no one
I wish to make a confession
to the God of no fair warnings
and preemptive first strikes
I gave up on avoiding disaster
love violence, loose women
and giving up
nothing makes me more happy
than dynamite & ending friendships

immature & petty
a badge of honor
“I wish a mother fucker would”
“who do you think you talking to”
and another thousand bullshit sayings
worn like crowns of kings & queens
without a kingdom and even more to lose
who think it is fashion to curse
what they ought forgive
and spit on graves
slap ice cream out of children’s hands
and act like Trump in their personal life
while condemning him
for being everything they are

silly mortals
loose batteries in pacemakers
waiting to die just the way they
came into this world
immature & crying about nothing.

“losing everything I have”

**inspired by An Honest Man by Fantastic Negrito**

he wakes to the shiver & wanting
the ache that kitchen can’t fix
he is searching
he is hunting
small packets of spare change
turned into white powder

forgot what God tastes like
so he starts with fire water
to calm the quakes & shatter
ends with puncture
to calm his pulsating vessels

“momma why did you leave me
alone here
I can’t remember the verses or the songs”

bodies turned into cadavers
flesh to experiments
this ends the same for all of them
he knows
but this body is isolation
the chemicals & adrenaline
replace the weeping
so he can make his pilgrimage
back to the vile violin stings
strung out
same clothes, more injection sites
nodding off closer to the death
he prayed for
when he prays
he doesn’t pray

God forbid…
that someone hears
the truth in his longing

easy, slowly, goodnight…

“Lobby of Trump Tower”

Got contempt for the Devil
hope the house nigga choke & die on his good living
Our ancestors paid for this screaming & hung at the neck
you ought swim home
back to the shores you were stole from
Ought toil under the sky weary unable to rest
you ought run for your life & freedom
get caught
face the gun butt & bull whip

The trees & sky remember
Won’t let you forget

Who do you serve slave?lobby-of-trump-tower

Make a man out of spit and so much sand
put him in the field
take his children from him
give him your God but take his soul

You fool
You coward
wonder if you were bithed here
how easily you forget
your enemy

A snake is a snake
is the rattle & fangs
he will bite you at the neck & kill you
all the talking in the world won’t change that

Better to keep your distance

Yahweh forgive you
for the camphor and nitrocellulose minstrel show
the photo shop will report on you long after
Your trembling back has stopped crying mercy…

“what if I told you”

what if I told you

Fuck Christmas

told you Trump was still President
and that nearly every one
worth knowing
was dead

what if I told you

Fuck Magic
dreams
laughter
and the glowing eyes of an exuberant child.

what if I told you
it was not okay to laugh
full throttle
in spite of your eventual casket
wasn’t okay to every forgive anyone
anger lasted forever
and God was in the business of smiting the foolish.

would you believe me?

would you pour another cocktail, light another cigarette
write another poem
or just cry yourself to sleep.

what if I told you
there were no easy answers
in the back of the book
that God never finished writing the bible
because God never started writing it
to begin with.

what if I told you
you would never make millions
love would probably never find you
told you that you will die alone & shivering
because no one ever came to visit
told you all of the arguments that seem
so important to you, right now
would mean nothing in 100 years

what if I told you
the winning lottery numbers
then punctured your tires
before you could go buy a ticket
told you I love you
looking you right in the face
told you emphatically how much
you mean everything to me
and still fucked who ever the fuck
I wanted to.

would you believe me?
Or would you take screen shots
of broken promises, write angry blog posts,
tell all our mutual friends how I hurt you
and cry yourself to sleep.

what if I told you
that despite how bad things
seem sometimes
the planet still rotates the Sun
believing may seem futile
but is the only way
anything worth doing gets done
and there is seldom any use in weeping
till sleeping because when you wake if you wake
the same tears are waiting with the same problems
to bring you more tears

I am telling you
please believe me
that being alive is better
than being dead
breathing is opportunity
so live life to the fullest
you won’t get out alive…

10 things I would rather do then listen to Tomi Lahren speak…

these fools are fools...

these fools are fools…

hit myself on the thumb with a hammer
clean out my hard drive
clean chitterlings
throw up
weep from self hatred
picket for a living wage in front of a McDonald’s
apply for Government assistance
mop up jizz at a peep show
listen to Lil Yachty records/freestyles
your momma…

in no particular order.

“I like you, liking me like you”

if good pussy were good penmanship
i’d pray over the mailbox
that inside would be a handwritten post card from you
if neck kisses were breakfast pancakes and syrup
you would have to get a gym membership
to keep from getting obese & reduce the risk of diabetes
if love is truly the answer
we should go on Jeopardy
get filthy rich and move away together.
because I love you
like fat asses love couches
we belong together
like Spongebob and Patrick
like hot sauce and fried chicken
like Trump supporters and swastikas
you are everything to me
trembling fingers and pulsating
wide open
Netflix and chill spaces
you make it hard
to say what I mean when I mean what I say
because sometimes I say things that I don’t mean
but I mean to tell you everything
you want to know if you know what I mean
take it easy or get it rough
bent and hair pulling
whichever you prefer
whenever you need it
I need you like
octagons need acute angles
you look cute in that dress
with no make up
we should make love
to slow jams between bed sheets
like sheet music you set my key
unlock the door to your heart strings
and I will play with your g chord
make you music
to dance to then lay there beside you
till we both fall asleep…