testeria is fear of cumming and the constitution both of which are hallmarks of whiteness within the other day i made the mistake of telling an angry nigga helping his baby with home-work that there is nothing in his nuts you will produce tomorrow’s already rotten fruit and nobody will open their mouth for … Continue reading Testeria
"even mothers cut cords to keep us from killing them and save us from death"
As I think about the act of trimming excesses and formulating aesthetic definitions, I wonder how all of those haircuts and all of those men have "shaped" me. What did they cut off beyond my hair?
I. In July sun and burgundy car, I breathe 1985 in 11 year lungs, riding in silence. In our grief we bump against each other. This is kindling. This is dry wood. There is fire to burn. She has misplaced a son she never knew. And despite having his location, can never seem to find … Continue reading (Re)Consideration
tell yourself the man who eyed your thighs in short shorts shouting FAG! from caprice window wanted nothing more than to touch you or be touched but long ago lost freedom of language: gift of mothertongues made serpents by men split down the middle by he who fears the power of her … Continue reading (In)Difference
I. we are posed our collective ass high saddles arched to heaven like monochrome rainbows where cowboys deign to ride we are constellation dark stars who only shine against the light night-walkers and gateways to other sides we are breathless before querent dick who examines this sainted congregation of the dead a grim and proper audience a showcase … Continue reading Saint-Maker & The Red-Neck Men
in his suicide forest i collected seeds and grew a garden inside myself thick with wilted things he is a reaper unsated an unworthy god who harvests the white of my bone and scatters soul-ash and grief as feed for the coming he manicures the place in me where men lay down to die a … Continue reading Rituals of a Son