Concrete Clothespins

I listen 

to these kids 

(because most of them are kids)

swap exaggerations 

all day and all night 

they’re masculine facade 

their badass tough guy

filters in and out of 

air vents

because it’s that thin 

that see through 

that porous 

that viscous 

they talk prison 

they talk fights

they tough up 

and out 

and their little 

hearts shake 

like cot

grasshoppers 

every one of them 

would run if you said

they could 

their mothers know

they are not men

so they are faking

all the stage lighting 

so of course they worry

and dread for them 

they moan for them 

cry and weep for the boys 

they pray will one day be 

men 

(maybe)

I don’t intimidate them 

the smell and sight of godly confidence 

is evident to every man 

and woman

it’s something both fascinating 

and scary 

it lingers much longer 

settles in the pores of the temples

hides in the memory drums

and seeps forth 

hours on end 

why do you do this, to these children?

they’re scared as edgy antelope 

they need attention 

not concrete clothespins to hang by 

and dry 

I cry for them because 

they’re too scared to tell you

and themselves the

TRUTH.

and I cry for them because 

you’re too self absorbed to

HELP.

and I cry for you too because..

you’re lazy heart will cost you 

much dearer in the 

END. 

Comfort Food

I am surrounded by criminals, the fringe, the outcasts, the drunks and drug addicts and thieves and robbers and even worse

I love these people 
they are my peeps

I don’t always love their behavior; they are far from perfect like me

but they are raw and exposed because they’ve been caught and there’s nothing left to hide

there’s no makeup to cover the scars and maggot infected wounds in jail

they have to find peace in guilt and shame and concrete and steel and cold ass iron

all is stripped away, like Jesus in the tomb

theses people were his people too

we are alike JC and me in that way

the losers are winners to us to me

we don’t fear the human imposed consequences… well, maybe some of them do but I don’t and that is a comfort to them

dear Christians, to whom will you give comfort to today?

or, will you simply comfort you?

it’s a question most of you will either feel guilty about when you read or you will react defensively and say: who is he to speak? he’s a thief in prison…

but deep down, god knows your heart and my heart no matter our physical location

and I love u even if ur no outcast…

find ur hrtbt. 
hold it tight. 
love it pure and right.

.357 for 1007

The Veil

feather bows and graphite arrows like the purity of our hearts in today’s times 

so soft and brittle and easy to sway and shatter

no discipline, no strength to say no, no boundaries 

this is hard, but worth the love

wise men always flee society: 
gurus to caves, Jesus to the desert… maybe I keep finding myself here as a means of veiling myself from society

the veil is so thin and yet so thick

I fear for us, I fear, I fear

thump goes god inside each of us

find your beat and hold it tightly

love, 
.357 for 1007

Tailspin

the hoodwinker lost its tail and grew wings and floats like the sun in the anti- gravity filled ocean

I sense I must lose my tail and grow wings too, do you?

secure your property, the handbook says

so should I secure my tail 
or let it fall completely away?

a sun can’t have a tail, can it?

does a hoodwinker need a tail?

does the universe vibrate?

does my heart love even when confined to my chest to my skin to my cell – a box in a box in a box ad infinitum?

it loves and beats stealthily and sturdy more than ever

it yearns to be free externally and not just internally, but these things must be earned for it must have been hu-man to grant them since they can take them…

do u suppose god knows¿

I doOoOCoo 
doveCoo

love ur hrtbt. 
.357 for 1007

no mind

all of my dreams in a pair of sun yellow pants and an old snap and orange rubber shoes (at least they fit)

sex sizzles on key rings

is it count time?

I just get so caught up in the moment that I forget there’s a reason I have a rubber coffee mug

hmm I do like blue fizzy raspberry limonada while I wait for the green sun to rise

I don’t know the time and judging by the courtyard, its raining and my body is a weapon

blue fizzy raspberry limonada in a rubber coffee mug that no one can break

music notes that spell Anna and a graphite dart board that promises free on the 21st and my concrete bed and a calendar and a tissue paper dream catcher

love, 
.357 for 1007

Coo

I may have to do some things you all will consider very crazy. please know I know what I’m doing. I love you all. find ur heartbeat. meditate, pray, care for your body. I am in good hands, being fed well, roof, clothing, bed, no needs or wants. I will make posts as I can but bear in mind my privileges are restrained at the moment.

doves fly south 
via their beak 
to love and songs 
in the wind 
they trust nothing 
but the moment

the moment never fails 
a dove 
god never fails 
a dove

god sings of doves and rainbows and butterflies all dipped in chocolate and eaten whole

I’ll see you for dessert in the ocean of infinity 
I’ll be at the helm 
snacking and listening 
to doves 
coo

we~ll get naked and ~π~π~ 
dance a two step

love 
.357 for 1007