pussy so fire call it clit bait

Anything less and that is distaste

how does this taste

it ain’t a mistake

Rolling that tape ya we got shit made


Even if the world goes down, my handy will save me.jpeg — Creative Commons License

Lately, I’ve been feeling really tense

Waking up, think of you,

Feel the blue

Gloom inside my own tent

When I met you in the summer

Did not know how it could be

That two months after you let me

I’ve been fucking,

But I cannot feel the breeze

I’m a sleaze

But, oh please

You had me begging on my knees

I told you that I trust you

Asked you to do

What no one has done before

Don’t abuse it

Don’t confuse it

Please don’t lose it

This is not a simple tease

But now,

I see.


Leaves in Snow — Image from Katherine Hala on Flickr

Today my therapist ditched me.

Half passed two

Waiting; please pick up the zoom

Today I really need you.

Now more than last week

Perhaps more than next week

My knees are weak

Eyes are starting to leak across the keyboard.

Have my headphones in

Clinging to a vape pen

She’s always here for me

She doesn’t ditch me like you do

Lies about technical difficulties, like

Girl, I’ve used that one too

It’s okay just give me the truth.

What does it mean when your therapist ditches?

When you pay twenty-five dollars a session

But she still doesn’t want…

creative commons

Law school drop out

I’m starting to think this shit ain’t for me

Especially when Lord knows

Shit ain’t free

All these books got my mind fried

Stunting my creative flow

Education has me tongue tied

While my anxiety intensifies

Crying in my boy’s bedside

While he lays beside me fast asleep

And I’m just trying not to make a peep

Because I got so much on my mind

God, help me roll up the blinds

Please just let the sun inside

My brother on the brink of going to jail

Even has my dad stop drinking from the Well

Mute: HH by Suzanne Mcclelland

Deliberating on this penetration

To strike back we have to concentrate on executing your castrations

But my fellow queens are out of focus

They’re focusing in on the strike against one another

Fighting amongst our sisters

While excusing our guilty brothers

Placing our fathers on a pedestal

While our mothers continue to lie still

In an unmarked grave that’s deprived of her name

She don’t get fame she don’t even get blame

She’s rejected from the spotlight

Her shadow looms as it tries to catch light

But only her absence is reflected

A dark silhouette with no face because she’s…

Mural from the Temple of Longing

When she speaks she’s so anxious

Like hiding secrets and

Hates to fake it

Slight short of apathy; not ingenuine

Just stutters and finds her ground again

Spitting truths

The apology is unnecessary

Because what she says

Seeks to criticize not an unread

But a lack of educated

Because she knows within her heart

Education is something of the arts

It’s not something that you simply begin

It can be something explored; finding from within

And that’s not just respect; it’s something greater

It depends on your act

Not just how you act but how you look back

And reflect…

Untitled by Henry Darger

From the very first day that I was born

My hands started to guide me

Mixing up Barbie's with dinosaurs

My parents did despise it

A girl catching eyes that were sore

Avoiding blues and greens at the store

I played catch with my dad I wanted to make him proud

Said I had an arm like a man

Ball thrown with that whizzing sound

But I had to hide these boyish tendencies like it was contraband

Ain’t that so sad?

Over-sized shirts pulled up; pulling up to school

Spread mascara

Chunky Tennis shoes premature; before it was cool


Retroactive II, Robert Rauschenberg

Every time that I take a step forward I’m rewording

Not rewarded

I’m editing and editing

That’s called fretting, but not letting go

They say let the good times roll but I don’t know how to

So I just let it unfold

Unopening the package like a pamphlet call it slacking

But I’m lacking a prophet

I want to Save me

So I save, and I save but what’s to gain?

When my savings go to liquor

It’s not hiding my pain

Leaving my small-town suburb I think I’m on a curve

Upward but I’m just back on the curb

Created by Georg Braun and Franz Hogenber’s, appearing in the atlas Civitates orbis terrarum

I think my roommates are stealing my spices

Out of all the vices I guess I cannot complain

For if one is to steal

Surely, it ought to be spices

Delicate flavors from South Puerto Rico

Cardamom Cloves left Camel backed Cloud Forrest

Forgotten homes are no where to be found

Their vacancy from the spice cabinet, like a battleground

For every time a spice disappears

It seems to fall upon deaf ears

Truly, no one would ever notice something

As small as the vice of stealing a spice

They may not shine like Shillings upon the


It’s not…

Corner of 72nd and Dodge on May 29th

On May 25th, 46-year-old father George Floyd was murdered by a white Minneapolis police officer, who knelt on Floyd’s neck for over eight minutes.

Upon hearing the news of Floyd’s death, I, like many people around the nation was outraged and disgusted at yet another incident of police brutality against an unarmed black person. When protests began to emerge in Minneapolis the following night, I frantically refreshed my Twitter feed as the Minneapolis community finally said: Enough is enough. …


occasional poet

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