group d'etat:
movement without moment — is not
revolution — it's just
noise
I can’t write on medication
stretch out on planks
keep them I punch it
I used to be the executive assistant to the vice president of Chanel
I worked my way up from Estée Lauder
Early evening in Firenze. The day’s main events have passed.
Paint spread across canvases, lovers embraced, gelato devoured.
Have the clouds begun to shift into their twilight stance? That distinct Florentine merging of gold, yellow, pink?
Read MoreSometimes the sun rises North of East. Sometimes the moon hangs above our heads like an orphaned jewel and when I reach out it hides in your breast.
Read MoreSociety attempted to box me in, in an attempt to make me
one of them, telling me I must live, must speak their way,
but if don’t; I’ll be punished for being different, for being
extreme. A menace to society. When I was chasing a
dream. I will stand for the destruction of mankind not
another day! Soon is the time to break down the walls of
society.
The mariachi musicians in TJ stumbled into the church bleary eyed
Dragging their instruments with them
Preparing to serenade the Virgin of Guadalupe
Whose day it was
Would the benevolent virgin bless them
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skip the irony of the laboratory
and the four hundred bucks.
As I was sayin papichulo
My pussy’s got a name
But you don’t know it / never bothered to ask
In the living room between separated couches,
Sun beaming on the wall while suspense arouses.
Barreling like gut born love songs
Your ancestors are smiling
As we pass the time
When we ride
It's language
Tribes' fearless leader, "Blind Guy," Steve Cannon penned this poem to accompany David Hammons' exhibit on Charles White and Leonardo DaVinci at the Museum of Modern Art. Dig it!
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My hands are hardened to the springtime task
Of ripping out dead wildflower stalks
Leftover from last fall.
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Vince, the teenager with ''exuberance'', was on the verge of plunging into the waters of decadence-----being friends with Oasis, his agemate and a juvenile with questionable character---until his parents sat him down to tell him their teenage stories---how they grew---experiencing the bad and ugly sides of life but became responsible as young adults and parents. Several years later, Vince's tuned-new-leaf situation inspired him to write ''Family Tells A Story'', In Family Matters and Home Magazines.
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I saw a play the other night
on Broadway and I learned
that the stage is within me
not in front of me
I cannot bring it to the international food fest
at the middle school; it will be returned
like the tea eggs after orchestra practice.
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