windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Month: April, 2005


all my kindest thoughts i learned from kindness no bully beat them into me deprive a man of love (there’s a good reason?) and what would one expect?

high tide

the moon that fills my eyes: that’s only the beginning it pulls on, warms and quickens all my water. curious optimism. like a breast, a faithful home for thirst

it gets old

neighborhood phrasebook: “punk-ass” “yo’ mama’s a ho’” “whattya lookin’ at, bitch” “whatta you walkin’ away fo’, bitch” “you a stupid-ass nigga” “why you gotta disrespect me?”

a gusher

i slink off into the night, my eyes askance closing the door gently so as not to be heard after dreamfulls of drunken caresses, i return to my notebook guilt-wracked, and reeking of cinema

good night

in the hour before my bedtime, when i’m looking back upon the day, depleted my housemate brings me a sweet, handmade by his mother with peanut butter and late-spring greens