POETRY IS....
THE VERBALIZATION OF
THE THOUGHTS OF 
THINGS GOING ON INSIDE OF ME...
CONSTANTLY FINDING MYSELF CLAWING
UP NARROW HOLES BARELY ESCAPING
THE CLASPS OF DIPAIRITY...

MY THOUGHTS ARE AMPLIFIED ALOUD
IN PRAYER AS IF NO ONE UPSTAIRS
HEARS ME
THEN I EXCUSE MYSELF FOR THINKING AS A
FOOL
ALMOST MANIC DEPRESSANT FOR THE LACK OF
ECONOMIC RELIEF AND EMOTIONAL SUPPORT
FOR EXISTING...

AND I'VE NEVER EXPERIENCED A HIGHWAY LOVE
BUT I'VE ROAMED SUBDIVISIONS AND BACK STREETS
OF QUICK HIT LOVE AFFAIRS
AND THE LOVE SHE FOUND ON A TWO WAY STREET
ENDED UP GOING BOTH WAYS:

WHITE WOMEN/BLACK MEN
BLACK WOMEN/WHITE MEN
WHITE WOMEN/WHITE MEN
BLACK WOMEN/BLACK MEN
HIS WOMAN/HER MAN
GAY WOMEN/GAY MEN

AND ALL PEOPLE BACK WHEN...

FULL GROWN MEN DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE
FATHERS OF SONS AND DAUGHTERS
THEN MOTHERS WHO SLAUGHTER THEIR OWN
CONFUSES ME

I CAN'T CALL TYRONE TO HELP ME
GET MY SHIT
'CAUSE HIS SHIT ANI'T TIGHT, SO I BAG
MY SHIT DAILY, AND I MOVE...
NOW AIN'T THAT SOME SHIT

POSTING LOL COMMENTS ON INTERNET BLOGS
LIKE SOME KIND OF INTERNET JUNKIE
SEEING MY FACEBOOK FRIENDS
BEING FACEBOOK FRIENDS
WITH SOME ONE ELSE
FACEBOOK FRIENDS
WHILE MY FACEBOOK FRIENDS OUT WEIGH MY
REAL LIFE FRIENDS...

SEE THAT MAN ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
WITH THAT WOMAN ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
WITH THOSE KIDS ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
THEY AIN'T GOT NO HOME
AND THEY ASKING ME FOR A HANDOUT
SO I TURN MY HANDS OVER
AND HAND OVER MY BUS FARE