Industry panic (Poem)




Since when did it become fashionable to impede on someone’s hustle?
What’s up with this?
Can’t you do do that thing on your own?
Can’t you go out and make that green on your own?
You’re like amber bottles lined up with skulls and crossbones

you look good but that shit is superficial – you know what they say…
you’re poison, ally my ass – Et tu Brute?
Ya’ll gotta stop this, it’s toxic
it’s narrow minded, quixotic,
if someone’s got their game on deck
why come along and knock it?
If someone’s got something to say
let them do that thing, why stop it? Myopic

you scared?
You worried someone might tell you
you don’t belong here?
That your words may be gay but ain’t none of it’s queer
And are you worried someone wants to know how you got here?
And are you worried that someone’s gonna wanna know
how y’all managed to get this industry on lock?
so now you gotta knock down someone you’re stressin’ some new cock on the block
worried that someone might come teach you a lesson
on talent -so frantic, you’re actions got you confessin’
who you been all along?
can’t take no heat when someone up and tells you that you might be wrong?

is your goals so lofty, so costly, the money you make – did you come by fraudulently – are you concerned you’re a fake?
Panicked new names are creepin’ in too fast
so now you make a mistake by kissing some ass
Didn’t you get the memo
celebrity is obscurity just waiting to happen
you could be great, you should be great, but you forgot your passion
Did you lose your ability because you were too concerned with fashion?
or is the pool too shallow, here- popularity’s gotta be rationed?

the hustle should be about getting your words out there
the standard used to be publishing, now y’all running scared
with so much static running in through the door
between the critics, the cynics, and the Z list attention whores
who found their fame shit talkin’ those who do
But your losing popularity So now you do, too?

Man, what a cliché this whole thing has turned out to be
Got voodoo queens hexing the whole famn damily
it’s a tragedy, of no less than Shakespearian proportions
you’re standing at the top of the well – tellin’ us what to do with the lotion
you say, it puts it in the basket lest it get the hose again,
How are you pointing out people’s flaws when you ain’t right within?
Come again?


I was healthy, the world was not (Poem) Possibly a rap song.


(Photo by Jeremy Bishop)


I always thought I was crazy
that there was something wrong with me
when people threw words in my direction
I ingested them like poisonous candy
With no walls put down around me
I was a house without a family
the bones were good but the content inside
was excrament from transients
who did nothing but critisize.

I believed I was A.D.H.D
that everything wrong – had to be because of me
and if you factored in my sexuality – for those who heard it
made me feel that when bad things happened
I was everything that made me deserve it

For a second, I was scared it was bi-polar
up and down and up and up again
but when I realized I was strapped to a rollercoaster
things began to make sense.
This feeling inside – this anxious mind
was re-acting to the world outside

Gas-lit like a motherfucker
90 to nothin’ like a run away trucker
clinging to the hope that in the next town things
would be better
feeling responsible for everything wrong in the world
including the weather
I was a hurricane raging up the interstate
wanting nothing more than abiding faith, to escape,
the shape and size of my heart – trying to outrun death
trying to outrun fate

I realized I was being chased, raced, and outpaced
by demons set loose upon the world by lips
that curled up in smiles, from those who paid their debt
to society’s desire for Dunbar’s guile
with eyes as cold as tombstones – I realized the only way off was to stop
drop, throw out the window other people’s luggage that I carried with me
and turn around right where I stood
and stare them down

and suddenly….

like smoke they were gone
like the remnants of a song that echoes in your ears
after the tune’s discharged and the last note played
like that lonely stretch of highway that remembers how in the day traffic roared over its pavement, not knowing where the cars went
similarly I not knowing which way my personal ghosts went
stood under the moon emptied out
for the first time in my life

It was then i realized I was healthy and that it was the world that was not.


(Watch out Eminem. Ol Freddie’s comin’ up. Imma call myself, “HimandHim”, ahhahahahahha)

Persona Non Grata (poem? Lyric?)


(Photo Michael Barth)

Verse 1

shove it away, shove it all away
I burn bridges I’m still standin’ on
kerosene can in one hand and a cigarette in another
bridge strung taut , mind strung along, I await the inevitable fall


kiss me quick as the flames grow higher
say goodbye after your spent
let me go after you’ve climbed in my head
You gave me your distraction, on your floor, in your bed

Verse 2

persona non grata
you don’t want what i am
twisted terrified demon that sees with my hands unwelcomed
building dreams in the air, building castles in the sand

Repeat Chorus

rattlesnake mean, you can’t get too close
i don’t wanna be just lover I wanna be your host
twisted deadly darling boy – not just for tonight

beware of my poison, beware of my bite