The burgundy bugs crawl all around in my brain. Dancing under the pink meat of my face. Their little sticky, sinister feet march again and again. If I wasn’t insane I’d probably feel the bass of their feet dancing under the pink meat of my face. Chomping on the raw insides of my cheeks… Continue reading A Pantoum on Infestation
AB. The blood. Blood of his story. Bandaged. The blood. Blood of his story. Abrasive. The blood. Blood of his story. Barbecued. The blood. Blood of his story. Abused. The blood. Blood of his story. Ballistic. The blood. Blood of his story. Abnegated. The blood. Blood of his story.… Continue reading Red Whine
I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I sat in the car all Sunday afternoon weeping until my eyes became raw and swollen, which I do every Sunday from 3:30pm to 4:30pm while my husband watches football, before heading back inside to continue being a wife. When I first started this ritual, the neighbors… Continue reading ‘Til Death Do Us Part.
The Alien in the Alley She is hairy and Abstract and lives on the walls with wings dipped in black. She’s not a cliché fly. She is a jaw-dropping butterfly. A goddamn mighty butterfly. With vivid, godly wings that are lengthy like sophisticated words. She, a spellbinding creature, surrounded by bile… Continue reading The Alien in the Alley
Amethyst; that was her name, and that was the shade of her strut. She’d float down the sidewalk like an apparition, in high-heels sharp like the corners of counters, and force the smell of manually-mashed passionfruit to mingle with the cool air. Click, clack. Click, clack. The heels. Left, right. Left, right. The eyes. She… Continue reading AmethysT
Heavenly wore a green thong on the stage each night. She loved the way it matched her eyes, gave her chocolate skin a glow, and signaled a green light for the men in the audience. But more importantly, she loved the way it matched her favorite thing–money, honey. And she made a lot of it.… Continue reading Dollar Bills.
He wore a green trench coat that made his back itch and his mocha skin moist. The shiny, stiff, green coat flowed down his body like a frozen river, covering him like a green screen, and ended right above his knees. Everyone saw the coat. It was always on Central and Myndylla Drive, from sun… Continue reading The Green Coat
Live Nation sent an e-mail to my inbox with a presale code because I go to so many concerts. That was May. The show was just about a week ago– July 18, 2017. Everyone was like you saw Logic already! Why are you spending money to go again? I said, I saw him as part… Continue reading Everybody’s Tour… Literally.
He stared at me, hidden and protected by all the dropped heads looking at their phones in the crowd. He looked like an officer, but most white men do to me. He had a gun snuggling against his hip though. But he didn’t have a uniform on, just a faded shirt that said FBI: Female… Continue reading Black-handed
John Lennon said, count your age by friends, not years; count your life by smiles, not tears. I agree not to put a numeric value on age, but instead of smiles and tears, I count my years a little differently. Here’s how: By my crush on Justin Bieber–it has become weak over the years, although… Continue reading How I Count My Years