sleep, eat, kill, die, pray

For more poems and video readings head over to my Instagram.


crossing for a dream

I could say their names

over and over again

but here’s a picture of two out of three dead

So you can never forget

Don’t tell me not to put it

Don’t tell me it dehumanizes

This is how I fucking cope

I don’t run from the traumatized

People like us get it

But most of the world doesn’t

Faces of the conscious are gonna see this shit

You’re gonna learn to not love it

As much as I don’t.

Sure take your time

But don’t be coming round for me

Rather remember them the way they deserved

As a family reaching for a dream.


pic credit @lazy.beam on Instagram

i left my piss in Detroit

i left my piss in Detroit

and saw it go down the urinals filter holes

like a quiet fountain in a courtyard

filled with feces and the barely able

to afford



some miles up north


envisioned the urine crystals venturing down the pipes that the poor swede must’ve made,

that left the Blacks to maintain

with wartime not prioritizing life

and neglect rectifying death

semi golden stream

flowing with the wastes of the unclean,

traveling through aqueducts of a million y’all tales,

“This one came from a yuppie.”

“This one came from a wholesome family”

“This block was formed on convict labor”

“This one was right after sex and bourbon”.

the gate keeper is unimpressed

it goes and goes and goes

filters its impenetrable molecules

to bond with our glands.

and it’s there we realize

our skins are forever contaminated

and the judgments of those with dirtier circumstances

are corrupted by the pointed syringe.



There are some who ask me of what I do is worth it

That what use is my art if I make no dough from it

And I say that you’re right

This shit l do

I spend

way more time looking for work than actually working

I spend

Year after year in a town that I don’t know

I spend

time working jobs with people who love what they do while I work for someone elses dream

and yes I’m flaming with envy

but the bridge I’m building for myself I don’t want to burn while attempting to cross it

so I just keep going

Ask a nigga if he figures the trigger is the more preferable option without caution

Watch him rise to the top watch his top stop and falls so low you can’t even call him a flop

He’s more a sinker

Another forgotten being in the sunken place

I chase dreams of killing it on movie sets and worldwide stages

But the only thing I’m killing is my stomach because my paycheck dissolves faster than that extra saltine cracker I asked for with 99 cent chili from Wendy’s on my last dollar, hollering to the sky wondering why I bother with this dream when it seems I can’t get my shit together

These mood swings out here are renditions of changing weather

I feel so bright one day and wanna touch y’all with my sun

Then feel so cold that my heart breaks at even the slightest mishap

The universe must be giving God the latter feeling’s kickbacks.

Now about to the question.

Is it worth it.

Fuck do I know now.

But I know that I’m spent.


Puerto Rico Episode IV: A New Hope

There isn’t a moment now in my life where I am not reminded of the air, the December sun cutting the humidity in two as you walk through it. Or the rapid fire vernacular that bounces through your eardrum, creating compositions that correlate with the blaring salsa or trap music-a sign of the generational preferences. Young and old, female, male, gender-trancesending, flora and fauna-I see all of it in everything I do now.  Continue reading “Puerto Rico Episode IV: A New Hope”