Posts for June 6, 2019 (page 4)

Category
Poem

The Happiest Rat On America

He has a thousand dollars.

That is like a million dollars to a rat.

He is 4 inches tall and 3 inches wide.

He wears Comme Des Garçons

One glove specifically

With the finger tips cut off and his little hands poked out of them.

He is pro union. He orders a coke at the restaurant and it is bigger than him. Portia DeGeneres thinks it’s very funny.

That is who he goes to restaurants with

because he is famous.

He doesn’t have EarPods because they’re stupid. Shut up

( Y’all read Geronimo Stilton? )

He drinks champagne out of those little cups that come with NyQuil.

When he gets a tiny boat like

Stuart Little (whose murder he is primary suspect for) (so tight tbh) (I know who I trust) 

It is over for you non-rat bitches.


Category
Poem

The Antique Shop

I only wanted a cup and a saucer
But the man had to say 
He’d make me an offer
Just twenty dollars for the entire lot
“But I don’t want it all
and not the teapot!”

Oh but see here – 
just look what you’re getting
A tall coffee pot
A sugar and creamer
Four dessert plates and
A box with a lemur…

“But the pot has no lid
and besides I don’t want it
I want a cup and a saucer
Not a bee in my bonnet”

You drive a hard bargun
The man said to me
But six extra cups
You could have you a tea

“I don’t need extra cups
and I don’t want a creamer
I’ve no room for it all
and I can’t feed a lemur.”

A deal was then made
and he took my twenty
I left with six cups – Oh Boy that was plenty
I got saucers too an a sugar and creamer
But I left behind
                             that sweet little lemur.


Category
Poem

Somewhat Okay

Striving for happiness

Is a big goal

Like taking a leap

Over an entire river

When you know

You can’t cross

Without a bridge

So for now

Grab some wood

And some nails

Start building

And

Honey, I beg

Just strive

For

Somewhat okay.


Category
Poem

Picking Flowers with Jess in West Virginia

it was her idea,
things like that 
always are

she has the eye—
on every trip
she rearranges
the decor of our 
AirBnB and 
makes drinks
that taste good 
but look even 
better like 
the ones you 
see in magazines 

she knows how
to take the 
best Instagram 
photos, how 
to post them
with witty 
captions

I don’t know 
how she’s made
it this long
without becoming
famous

we put on hats
and walk out in
the golden hour

she plucks the plants 
from the earth, 
hands them 
to me with 
artful gestures
so I know 
wordlessly
how to hold 
them to 
her liking

the sun shines
off her shoulders
narrow and strong
beneath the white 
wrap sundress
covered in flowers
itself 

I like following
her, I like loving
her without 
hating myself

we try to weave
some of the flowers
into crowns 
and are quietly 
giggling but sad 
that we’ve
forgotten how 

you lose girlhood
in little ways 
like that,
the things 
you forget 

but the magic 
of a friend 
like her 
keeps a 
bit of it
blossoming
your whole 
life


Category
Poem

Eve 2.0

My knees are bruised from loving you.
From prayer or restless passion, no one will ever know. 

You were my false god and I remember the bible said to stray from idols, 
but there you were,
perfect and stunning in grace.

And I bit that forbidden fruit without hesitation, 
and now I’ve been cast out 
naked and 
ashamed. 

I knew not to trust snakes, 
but what about boys with the faces of 
angels? 


Category
Poem

recherché

each thought,
I ask “are you
what I’m searching
for” while writing
and wait for the answer
to myself

if only I
wrote always


Category
Poem

thinking about a dr. john second line OR this is what came out when i started typing.

Some days. Just suck
the marrow of any moment should be savored
the voice said 
(onthereal, i aint ever heard anyone say anything about
savouring the marrow of any moment. it sounds like something
that
should be
done but looks corny af on the page. even worse outloud
as i read this outloud. i mean i’ve heard
similar things. you know what i’m saying. but back to the other font.)
But you and I know
that’s just some carrots hanging. From some twine
on a stick we hold (or something holds)  in front of our faces
some motivation to keep going
on. For some reason. (aint nothing wrong
with a good soup bone. i can savour some soup. specially
them times that i really don’t
have the monies to ballout and i have to
get some heavy vittles in my gut
like that time up in Dooky Chase. Lawd
that was good. But Rakim said Without no money
it’s still
a wish.)
Paycheck. See
the next morning. Fear. Just being. I don’t know
why. You do it your way universe. (?) IDK. But I do know
that the rain (well, it was raining when i wrote this/forgive me
                                                                          if it’s not right now)

still going to do
what it do whatever thafuk i do. So if we gotta
dance into a monsoon of _________________, then be it. Call me.
Mahmoud Abdul Rauf and I
will
cross you over
pull up on you and drain. Then turn to the east.
From long range. I am.
Just trying to get to tomorrow. That should be
on a tshirt that won’t sell worth a damn
but will be good for wiping up messes (for real. in some bomb font) because that _____________________ still going to be there still going to be knee deep in whatever you doing.(Someone on etsy probably already has a tshirt or something that says just trying to get to tomorrow and that’s cool if they do. still trill like gris gris hangin from the necks of those that need it {raised hand.You should raise your hand} MOST.  

somedays feel like forever has found you
they don’t roll through too too often 
but if you in the right place
and the clock is tick tick tick tocking the right time
i aint going to tell you to savour the moment
because that shit would be cliche AF
however you would be a fool to leave
any gravy on that plate.


Category
Poem

Sick day

Heavy laden with last night’s illness,
We weave a wonderful web.
Im ever in awe of your presence.


Category
Poem

Comfort and Chaos Collide Inside

Plans
outlines
numbers
patterns
symmetry
balance
labels
color codes
orderly piles
neat stacks
satisfy my brain

Thoughts of
infinity
the cosmos
accidents
statistics
the supernatural
fluid time
the abstract
the ocean
describing a human being’s essence
strike fear in my gut

There’s comfort in organizing
a game of chess
when playing it
is too much


Category
Poem

I Held my Breath and Prayed

Children’s laughter floats through the house.
Wind blows curtains gently in breeze. 
Five gunshots ring out 

Whats that noise?
They ask. 

I held my breath and prayed 
I lied for the day 
So they could return to play 

I held my breath and prayed
While cars sped away
For this world
They will soon know as today. 

I hold my breath and I pray.