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I Am Not A Poet I Am Not A Poet This is just some shit I wrote on the bus. I cut myself shaving this morning Imagine my surprise When my blood ran black as India ink as it oxidized. So I filled my chromed fountain pen with this ebony excretion And wrote this poem…
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Vagina Monologue Blues In E Flat Live From The G Spot My inner goddess is posting duck face selfies on Facebook. My inner goddess is Crip walking to Oingo Boingo ‘Grey Matters’ on YouTube. My inner goddess is improvising confessional poems of urbane Ennui mid coitus. My inner goddess talks before, during and after intercourse.…
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True Bromance He was my first hipster hat on his silver head, harmonica in hand 2002, 50 year old Mike on the mic Clay man takes the stage at the Velvet Hookah, a genuine too cool for Sunday school house rocking stray cat scatting our grateful dead white and blues period. This is not…
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Liberty Spikes Live in Deep Ellum My son Jamaal has driven for 2 hours to have coffee With the old man in Deep Ellum. Ok, he wanted Kalachandji’s but I needed Coffee in Café Brazil And this he understands. The waitress tells us to sit wherever we like And I choose the table near the…
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“Nigga’ Technology” I got my first cell phone last month Black flat sleek plastic flip up camera like on the original star trek today I sent my first text to a girl friend. I lost the power cord the second day. Everybody show off the freak flicks At work they wouldn’t understand Why while walking…
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(For my most mortal master, Robert Cochran, And my most immortal master, Allen Ginsberg) “and where is the great sorrow , that has carried me this far?” -Robert Cochran Allen Ginsberg signed the papers Authorizing the thought police To break into his mother’s mad mind One day Robert Cochran may have to sign the papers…
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TASTE OF DEATH BUT ONCE TASTE OF DEATH BUT ONCE It’s hard to think when the dogs sniffing the floor, yardman’s lawn mowers whining, the garbage trucks hydraulics crunchy hiss as the diesel engine growls. The radios playing trip hop and your old lady’s massaging your nuts. Still you go on, remembering that others have…
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Drinking Coffee from Lisa’s Van Gogh Starry Night Coffee Mug “Coffee is good, and I don’t want to die. “ -Taliba Brownian Motion; I see the birth of new cosmos Black holes and gravity wells I hold your starry nights In the palms of my hands I inhale your nightmares freeing you to dream Hold…
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Radio What The Fuck four people and a big dog live in a one bedroom garage apartment. behind a duplex. Luckily everyone gets along. The house is quiet, considering there’s two teenaged boys living here. I got bad eyes, bad teeth, bad knees and a bad back. but I got a good dog, good boys;…
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Queuing Up (Observations on kulture in Whole Food Groceries) For the connoisseurs of dark the coffee is gourmet chocolate, this is a pilgrimage to Mecca but there is a darkness here that is not a roasted bean or confection a shadow that defies the florescent light this is a place like any other place whose…
Joey Cloudy online 