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  • Eschatology  

    Eschatology “Who in the legions of seraphim would hear my poems,   even if I screamed them at god”  -Rilke   “who in the legion of seraphim would hear my poems,  even if I screamed them into gods’ good ear?”  –Rilke  on a park bench   between the alizarin crimson brick  facades on the shops in old town  

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  • I Am Not A Poet 

    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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  • Nigga’ Technology

    “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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  • 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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  • My Blue Sun

    My Blue Sun For my son Da’rrell Jamaal Cloudy “The truth is…you’re the weak and I Am the tyranny of evil men. But I’m trying. I’m trying real hard to be the shepherd.” -Jules Winfield I sit half lotus, a wilting flower child Shimmering, beneath transparent salinized beads of dew. Sentience simmering, beneath polluted ash

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  • After She Gets On the Bus These are the euthanasia mornings when the 609 moon is steel  a raised sepia nipple heavy with wet light waiting  for some bigmouth to suckle the verse  out of this is how you craft your own fate out run the cops and out live the rest keep breathing long

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  • “…Light Dominion Over Gravity.” “I am Coyote-Old-Man.  My medicine is strong,  I am not afraid.” -Coyote-Old-Man Why do we always begin with a platitude  and end with a cliché. While our dreams flee the rising sun  And chase their shrinking shadows west into tomorrow we approach each other light  Wave  Beam Wave  Beam Wave Beam

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