this would make me empassioned, or
impassioned. i am passionate about this something…
that’s how i get
who’ve never left the states
try to fix
other people’s problems
their English language exclusively.
the irony of westernization; fixed only by itself. YOU SEE?
and that is what they call backwards and selfish.
tho, there will be no stories of this on the news.
because just get out there and disrupt because.
and they should
call those who
think locally “nationalists” too.
a bunch of loud fools.
you know, somethings don’t translate.
you know, people might have different opinions.
this is how language works.
so when they/you designate
their/your ideas, ideations, and ideologies
as such, i just smh in realtime.
so silly, so stupid, so same.
that is why i am a where-ever-i-am-at-ist,
because i am right there,
i can attempt to understand
what i see and experience around me,
for me, for truth, for better.
maybe even for you…
but honestly, not for you (i don’t care)
or the tv (forget tv), i won’t facebook livestream it
or create a clever sign that
gets thrown away next day in some ironic carbon footprint
(that you too should actually hate)
after the post and the filter and the likes–fretter fakes.
and that is what i am passionate about,
or empassioned about, or impassioned about,
all that is around me
because i can touch it tangible,
as they said, i can feel the real,
i can set the clock next to the bed.
and there is something about language and labels.
no matter how
you work out
or sculpt your body
or sweat it out
or believe in yourself,
your fucked up attitude
mirror you pose in front of
no matter how
many selfies you take
from whichever different angles…
ripped sense of humor
make that pretty or attractive or sexy,
can do that,
will jack that shit up.
what does a gym
membership go for
In the cistern of my mind
live water’s beckon thought;
is it the past or a dream—
the difference, I can’t tell.
This wet morning I
last night’s genius,
do you remember, I ask her.
It was a good one-liner.
No, she says…
I was tired.
So was I,
lacking a near pen, paper sat
on the nightstand as my head rested in
a pillow, my body under
a warm white duvet, next to her loving,
and at that moment my genius got up, jealous,
waited, and then moved to the door.
It felt all right
to let my genius
walk out and away.
Though, I hope it beat the rain.
There was an attractive space recently filled,
which became an empty void.
That empty void,
became a great opportunity.
That great opportunity,
became a fleeting moment.
That fleeting moment of great opportunity of an empty void,
was then filled whole.
In the process of planning,
you missed the entire occurrence.
O now how the coffee tastes
so bitter at the bottom,
You, me; us we—forward or backward,
together we are the same.
Parts of a carnal body, whole—
built of dust, thoughts, and air;
no scar is without a measure,
no action still unmoved,
shell of human being outside,
ghost of us within.
We are compelling a kind,
eyes peer to see;
from Franklin and Nicollet to NE,
Middle America to Middle East.
Still, forward or backward, we are the same.
with cream cheese melt;
how you entice
it is early in the morning
and I am hungry,
into my stomach
Of a rich land,
Dripping to velvet tongue;
This Lai sweet song,
Moving with the wind, touched by the hand—