I used to be a writer

Piano fingers, are lobster claws. A lazy cell evolves. in reverse. Paintbrushes collecting dust slump in tin cups brown strips of rust Camera lenses giving me the eye wondering why I won’t pick up the pen and paper. or at least try. what is a feeling. internal hallucination of a sensation None of it is…

I’m Sick

in the head in the body in the clothes. I’m sick. of the ice of the heat of the news. I’m sick. with anger with love with a cold. I’m sick. of wifi of talking of digging. I’m sick. D evastated N auseated A mputated from my cell phone hand and abusing it. Losing me…

Chisme

Abuelitas roosting on the block clucking, pecking sunflower seeds. kids on boards with wheels flying little dragons goons puffing weeds. Men in orange vests with bricks catcalling on mamas Honeys with the Henney, tailored suits and boots fuckin up some comma’s. But trees got some chisme too we just can’t quite hear it. And I…

Classy

She’s a pervert, real wet and sick keeps it classy; but hell with the shade Bitch puts the ass in sassy. Leather hugs her tits Red stains the lips, Chains ice her wrists Glock grips the hips All-dark aesthetic black knee-high boots whip on both thighs stuntin’ looks. Ready for the fix she’s looking to…

Bitch, I’m a Poet

7.22.18 22:05 Bitch, I’m a poet. Writing through your hood Spraying truth on walls. I aint playin’ games; I make them. Pull up on you with some wisdom Planting logic in your head. Ain’t gotta tell me twice Roll the dice, check my ice, Summer sweets, I’m lookin’ real nice. Poshmark on my mouth. Cold…