Writing / Poetry / Performance Texts

Not Allowed Vol #2, 2013-2015

Mistaken for a tame lesbian

Recalling gay boys dancing

A high heel without a slipper

On against the lame

Most fabrics oppress

The way Brian and Esther said

Every Size Mirror Is A Dictator

Fave section on. The. Oh….

If I jacked puff

If I seemed tough

If I read a book about being enough

You still wouldn’t buy me poetry

Pally a singer

Sicka this shit

Ain’t no Damn Santa Claus

Fake ass market jabroney shit

Sleepy axx gangsta shit

Alimony daydream slip singer da sling

A-knox b riddle Ya C me ?

Flip the bird ___________
In my dreams

I’m throwing a peace sign

Walking twisted

Forward forearms

Forceps, firearms

Bias with self improvement

To enrich quality

In my gait and body hair

Envelop express mode

Guys shouting

But they’re kind

There’s no man here

The subject is sans

Attributes con dad

Plzen chest heather

Grey leather

If left to my imagination

Infatuation can flourish

I’d let train doors close

If he asked me somethin

Yo sunglasses

What can you teach me

Do you want to kiss

Handsome as a weapon

Handsome as in kill me

How many men felt ugly

Because they were

__________

I’m late at night

Watching his legs

Collecting information about his thighs

Where denim cuts and folds

Often I think of right clothes

Or videos of biceps

Disjuncture upon folding

He opened his eyes

And someone else got on the train

He looks angry

My hair came down

No more braid

Now I refuse to look at him

Though I’m thinking a lot about thighs

If he gets off at my stop

Is he gay or not

His pants on my floor when I’m asleep

It’s getting crowded where he sits

I ask myself if this is creepy

His shirt seems barely pink

Waking up to the back of his neck

I don’t care if we have sex

Are my shorts too short

I wore a jockstrap all day to work

Almost yelled at a drunk woman

And explained Ferguson

If he gets off at my stop

I’ll pull back my hair

Hope I don’t get mugged

_____

Night two

Train crush

I saw his Moscow head satrilite me

Dirty camo shorts and a Rolex

Serbian brow

Black tank top

A heavy shadow

Eyes closed, potentially sleeping

Could be a faggot

Spit on a dick and then stroke it

Left behind

If he looks at me again

Earlier the train platform

A Bruce Bauman dance together

Catching glimpses

Totally making this up

Totally creating honesty