18 Jan

Astral Projection is defined as is an interpretation of out-of-body experience (OBE) that assumes the existence of an “astral body” separate from the physical…(I couldn’t write the whole definition Wikipedia is Occupying)…

I Occupy things too.  The tops of pens are used to clean under my nails.  I haven’t bought any pens or pencils in about 10 years.  Everything is a poem.  Look at your desk where you write or put your laptop or keep your tissue handy when jerking off to porn.  The desk is a poem.  The top of my head is a poem.  The woman who slips on ice putting groceries in the trunk of her car is a poem.

The Help.  Well let me just say The Help is a movie to help white America feel good about themselves.  When that movie ends all the black women still need help.  They aren’t moving to New York at the expense of someone else.  Then again.  The title is ironic.  Then again all of that is a poem.

I’ve been told this…

  • “O wow your hands are so soft”
  • “You’re so warm”
  • “Why aren’t you saying anything”

Sei Shonogan might say I just wrote a Zuihitsu.  Those are poems.

I haven’t yelled in a very long time.  Probably years.  By the way I just stopped typing to answer some text messages.  I’m worried for everyone. (Note to reader:  None of the preceding three sentences have anything to do with each other).

I should probably acknowledge the fact I haven’t blogged in months.  I just did.  I should acknowledge the fact I’ve written something (everything is a poem) everyday since July 12th.  I stopped Jan 1.  I need a break.  Not of a Kit Kat.  By the way I don’t like wafers really. Just in Kit Kats.

Mice can swim for up to a mile and sometimes I think write poems.  Most of the time I don’t know what I’m writing about.  And that’s ok.

Everytime I wash and retwist my new growth it rains.  Even if it’s winter.  Even if I have someone else do it.  It rains.  Ann Lauterbach wrote a poem called “Hum” where she mentions rain.  Not really rain though.  Everyone needs a poem.

As a side note:  eventually cash will be the poor mans currency…diets may create two races of mankind…I am a black American poet and I have an inability to sustain rage (thank you Cornelius).

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Posted by on January 18, 2012 in Uncategorized


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