type…

Saw you in the supermarketand wondered what your kiss tastes like in the mouth of my mindsubtle hints of nicotine, staletraces of fresh dishonesty you always lie to me, nigga that christmas you gifted me gonorrhea of the throat i choked on a million regrets stuck in the toilet of my neckand gagged on the burn of my … Continue reading type…

remembering moonlight

i know all too well what Juan means when he says “In moonlight black boys look blue.”   i know those blues. i know moonlight in my memory. i remember being told that hours after birth, my dark-skinned father  took one look at my lighter skin and determined i must be the product of my mother’s sin. … Continue reading remembering moonlight

Pedagogy of the Oppressed

I. ATTENDANCE the woman beside me at the bus stopeats her dates, casting pit to pavementamber skin like liquorrippling in the breeze of passing cars glow she teaches me: the black woman is the most disrespected person on the planet, did you know that? they don' teach it they don't want you to know i … Continue reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed

wallflowers

ain't nothin like watchin wide-hip mama come round corner lean hip against white wall grab house phone off the hook sandwich phone in neck answer with just a little attitude and curled mouth at the corners hellowhothis? whoyoulookinfor? heaintherehoney. illtellhimyoucall. some days she slam the phone down but the phone don't break i miss slamming … Continue reading wallflowers

imperial desire (or why won’t donald die)

  all of his orgasms were made of blood he spoke of economies of ecstacy, preservation, and saving the world from doom with a sour mouth that feasted on the death of powers which he absorbed into himself and transmuted into pleasure tongue strokes from the mouth of a viper imputing venom translucent and sticky … Continue reading imperial desire (or why won’t donald die)