Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Monday, December 28, 2015
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Monday, December 21, 2015
We are happy amateurs
Eventually, because of outcry
Arabic calligraphy homework He was able to go on
The network
The Network
I got werk, I got werk I got werk and
sign
and sing
I put the h on it to let em know it's Niggahs
guzzling 40s and pissing niles and such endless infatuation with Miles Davis that will not end in black eyes and such
unilateral and militant
readiness , our inherent readiness
to perform a cure in empty cities
makes me grin a giddy and subdued swoon on ritual day day How would being afraid make me a better niggah of the network I got werk I got werk I got werk for sure
Eventually because of outcry
Saturday, December 12, 2015
He walked off the stage in the wrong direction
In the middle of a set full of his best black shit Sinatra laughed like a whip Reminded him of dixie whistling mingled with georgia snow cotton negro king loaded on coke and whips
Whippin a Range
Whippin an escalade with lazy rims say, you reckon I weep into the microphone like a home man ass whippin backstage nigga crying crayon blue I used to love yous
'told him to turn around and cross in the right direction
Who told him
you, who?
Neurotic nonchalance not ours maybe? Whose?
Church Marquis says Gods maybe doctrinaire jesus maybe zoot parade maybe
I'm not going back out on that stage maybe not a blues for Richard Pryor maybe a riot where we burn through the right side of town this time etch a path around the afterlife aggressively distant faux suede ballet flats, then get distracted in that spotlight
Whippin a Range
Whippin an escalade with lazy rims say, you reckon I weep into the microphone like a home man ass whippin backstage nigga crying crayon blue I used to love yous
'told him to turn around and cross in the right direction
Who told him
you, who?
Neurotic nonchalance not ours maybe? Whose?
Church Marquis says Gods maybe doctrinaire jesus maybe zoot parade maybe
I'm not going back out on that stage maybe not a blues for Richard Pryor maybe a riot where we burn through the right side of town this time etch a path around the afterlife aggressively distant faux suede ballet flats, then get distracted in that spotlight
Monday, December 7, 2015
The slick city people we became after the exodus
Having redistributed god next man wistful for profit our willingness our lottery bottle will, collective and singular / so sinner / sew nerves together into the lining linen Shine been signing autographs, in the blind name, daddy had, and bashful poster near the mine reads :
We ship to prisons
Picture all our favorite men in a van on the way somewhere, subsidized
We buy gold
We ride the shy horses
We are good to think with
And it's still only morning
It's only morning still
only morning
all these things we do this early, this easy remote rituals of the village turned as urban as barren
Therefore if you value your liberty ; and the welfare of the fugitives among you
Something about how we behave in the darkness is the total will of our light
We ship to prisons
Picture all our favorite men in a van on the way somewhere, subsidized
We buy gold
We ride the shy horses
We are good to think with
And it's still only morning
It's only morning still
only morning
all these things we do this early, this easy remote rituals of the village turned as urban as barren
Therefore if you value your liberty ; and the welfare of the fugitives among you
Something about how we behave in the darkness is the total will of our light
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