so
ghetto terrific. so callous or bold or deceased. so small so coarse such
sophistication. I splay myself I add a recipe I disagree with every damn
premise. a wreck in me a fool in me such laughter as days grow wearily. but
beauty is heart or haven or hell. I loved, I thought. it felt consuming. but if
it turns raw, was it love? a thief those nights a general in soul a theologian
those mornings. such a fire, as it envelopes his countenance, the white lady
was watching: “Are you alright? Do you need help? Are you religious?” such fine
grains such slaves of goodness while a world grins—it waits it gives little
respect it hates too much strength. (something reminds us of weakness. we see
so curtly. our forward, unspoken demands. but ghetto terrific. she went to
college. she obtained five degrees. no one knew they couldn’t breathe while
forced to leave her ghetto.) depend on me. I shall arise. where hell seems so
beautiful. how has it changed? where was its waterfall? so much I need
instruction. as a feral king with a furious queen we get so close, nothing else
matters!
the vice was
watching in elementary. something gave leniency. a nine-year-old caught a
murder case. so much as asking, how did it all go wrong? at seventeen he was
released. his guts are agony. they seem more respectful inside. no apologies no
mercy such filth as it tastes like candy cane. or acidic acid or a first hit or
liquor through licorice. a beige evening. where evenings are shady. the alley
is filled with hoodlums. such boom boxes such pistols such a cruel ass
argument. our lad our soul so much facial alienation. the pavement with stain
those angers in rage our lad stripped apart. intestines screaming at sociality.
whispers from a grim-reaper, darkness as its envelope. so much ghetto terrific
so many gates where fire is explosive; those mind robberies those true feelings
while many expect non-threating: our souls in fury our bowels in in wreckage,
our dreams in reality’s color.
