“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
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
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

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
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…

11/2/2016 waiting for it all to be OVER

the guns run the streets now
like they always did
the devil wears True Religion
the exits smell like preconceived notions
He said, “Fuck voting, they don’t count us”
though I tried to convince him differently
he sees through my uncertainty.
Hopes for Change are illusions
to keep the martinets dancing
want to cut my strings
run for the horizon
but they have church on Wednesday
trying to find a heaven I can’t see
while suffering the burns,
cuffs, and shame of delusions
if you catch me crying
at the polling place
ignore my emotions
wait your turn and cast your ballot
we will worry about the math
after the dance
but if you aren’t in the building
during the raffle you can’t get the prize.

“still suffering” or “comparing captivity”

traded chains for mandatory sentences
nooses and bullets for more nooses and bullets
the God in the index is not the same God in the text
proud eyes are dangerous
dignified is boring
more & better drugs make you magical

cotton, sugar, cocoa, and tobacco
crew neck tees, fructose, cocaine, and Swisters
nothing changed but the packages

the prison cells are slave ship quarters close
the belly changed
same ole beast

they are hunting free negros
under neath skyscrapers
these gallow trees
sway slower
even though the slave catchers dress the same
they still ride horses
kill without warning
and seldom call you by your proper name

we are playing different music to the same old beat
catching the same ole beatings
under the same ole sky.