every thing that happened to me was some kind of magic when they laid me in the grave minutes past being born walked away from me like moses and sent me down the river life to die touched my body in ways ain't supposed to be and beat me with their own regret raised welts … Continue reading Necromancy (Or Raising the Dead)
I woke up in the middle of magic rocked in the cradle of a sixth sense covered in snake skin a pattern of diamonds on my back I woke up in ritual in new awareness of a beyond now a freedom to do any thing (any black) thing my body got hot for I … Continue reading The Magic Man
they took to the streets with their faces carved like clay pumpkins mad because the eclipse had come shadow season when all the light turned into puddles of melted ice a black man clad in rusted audacity stood in the sacred place on a soapbox made of multi-colored fear that looked like … Continue reading will the women bleed too?
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
he raised the andes in my thigh an endless chain of high pitched malice strewn across the scorched earth of my memory there are rivers moving among structures of calamity those mountainous obstructions that go against the view they run to everywhere i am a swollen thing. large through the kindness of enmity still flowing a … Continue reading Scarification: Making a Mountain/Man
i allow you to treat me badly ... because something that whispers between the words ... tells me i deserve it ... i allow the illogical ... because it might be love ... or bright red desperation ... most severe ... most hot ... most wanting coolness and blue ... i allow you ... i … Continue reading Fagmentation