In essence, there’s only one advert that can placate the masses. It’s by the surfers, slicing through the whitecaps like rotten pomegranates. It’s a thirty second trance, with a Magritte bowler hat, floating over roadkill.

if i tally it
every time
my tongue finds cherry

do you still
pull your thumb down my lip
sweet surrender

in the other city
the social concepts that killed me here
stay peripheral 

I regret inventing t-shirt language model twink size

She lives in Brooklyn, so I go to Brooklyn.

When I got back to your room, my makeup gone, wet strands of hair sticking to my back,

cadillac blue and sprite can green

And as I darkened, I needed nothing.

it explodes painfully

It felt like belonging, like being needed.

The terrains alien, the people / Extra terrestrial / Make sense do not.

My wife and I run around the tables in our moisture-wicking workout clothes for the entire 177-minute runtime of the masterful, twenty-nine-track album.

writing like someone might care

according to some, no unicorns were on noah’s ark 

“Pull over,” I said, “I’m finna yerk.”

A Small Gift

…is awareness, at first,

and then it may take over,

for a while, and also recede

if it must, and at times, it must.

That sometimes gentle ebb and flow,

and sometimes

There areThree parts to any start. A Triptych. Trust me.  

I want my gentlemen taken care of, kids nonexistent, my money on the table and it’s black on first spin.

looking up at me with eyes like dogs
who’ve humped too many pillows
and now it’s time to pay the price

When a lover doesn't know your name

I could swim inside a seafoam green field. 
I could have cigarette breath again. 

He lies there, crumpled and ragged—
a pile of unwashed laundry.

[It began when I learned]

It began when I learned to sit                                       I began when I burned and sat
in my boredom, our poverty with                                in my

The world might 
not be here tomorrow,
but she still draws 
a perfect outline 
around her 
lips and eyes. 

Death is not a proper noun.

There were all these portraits of me hung on the walls and they would dance on the frames,
 the shadow people that spiritually strapped my body to the mattress.