coming back to my ethiopian home poem

i’m dirty

dirty as fuck

didn’t know when to count my good luck

spilled a pot of wot in the kitchen

licken the pan like i didn’t know i’d sicken

taken for granted what i didn’t know was cookin

taken the bandage off

now i know what i’m made of

loopin around what i thought i was

didn’t agree with me so i took it off

didn’t sidestep the spells

counter damage

didn’t want to learn how to spell

so i’m damaged

now i hear a foot stompin


Child you better use your ears

you’re a coward


feelin fell on the felon

a slight bubbly burn in my chest. a caffeinated glory hole

people popping thru left and right

i feel them watching me, feathery gazes,

i turn my head to lick up their attention. twitchy, witchy

in a new city again

where the trees don’t sprout branches until halfway up

like i didn’t sprout wings til halfway through my life

first i learned to walk and talk

then i learned to see

i’m only dead when i stop reading

whats in me and around me


de-molding the brain-tracks

cracking the code

leaving it dead on the road

merging with its ghost

which is feeling


uncouth maybe

still tastes like truth




passing thru the ether in a van

chipped nail polish lavender silver bits in my hair along with bits of moss and unidentified mixtures of gunk from under my nails

a greenish hue around my thumb from the 75cent fake copper ring i bought from the african retail traders

a beaded blue anklet cutting into my flesh a slight mold

black fuzzy balls hanging from angel’s red coat

pretty babies in the desert no longer

driving upward uncertain of the playout of the next few months

without a home without a certain bond

money nearly gone i wonder how broke will taste to a moth who’s always just been able to float by

not sure how i feel not sure how he feels but when he feels it i feel it and we feel

it so it’s ok for the day til the night when loss of sight seems to take it’s toll on the brainwaves

tapering downwards

not certain of the way i am headed

but i cant say i’m full of dread either just passing through the ether


inked; black

dad once said if i ever got a tattoo he would leave the country

why should i explain the allure of permanence

in a 

blink and it’s gone world


what i see in a pool of black:


the void, complete and endless


to be with me 

to be seen caressing vulnerable parts of me

holding me closer than reds oranges and blues do

representing nothing

wanting for nothing

the end all be all of color

of dis-ease

of deep sea secrets

of the spaces in between


my skin is black

to most

but i know

few are blessed with that hue that so directly speaks of the night

that which deceives

if everything i ever wanted or needed could be condensed into a single pill

would i take it?

can you find love in

lithium bicarbonate?

(like a jackhammer to my brain)

i cultivate love with my breath

which does not deceive

in my body are boundless oceans

that command i sway 

directly from my hips

that i glisten


heed my own tides

so i move with my hips

and i dip when I dip 

i roll when i roll

no taxes no tolls

keep going

keep rolling 

my tongue and my lips

roll my eyes

no disguise

i smell truth from a lie

and i stop asking why

learn to move with my hips

love the dips

turning tits

feed the burn

see you churn

not my problem

i mind oceans