When you were a child

“Quit dat shit”

life ironed into

you the longing for green

“You ain’ goin nowhea!”

we sweat, and asphalt held our hearts, we were winged-deamons, gods of dreams.


I have been opened wide

“Shit man, I aint seen the beach in yeas dawg..”

We have been teathered to each other, like a boats held to the sea

“yo dats fo real.”

The waves broken, split into foam.


I call you brother

I call you back


into hope


I call your

soul, some lost

part of me

I call


“I ain’t gunna tell you It won’t kill you

I ain’t gunna save yo shit

I can’t dog.”


That thing. That soft thing

You clung to at the edges

that tore you and like

Sirens, teased you through the veil


Will be, and will be your being.

You will live, even when you lose your breath.



June Poem
There was a time
when wild cells went streaking through my
body like the horses of Chincoteague

When my ancient code breathed and neural
correlates of consciousness bloomed like a magnolia

I sit, my
mail torn and scattered by.
children asleep- breathing kittens, baby skunks

I imagine pots of strawberry preserves, an ice
cream project

I sit, and let it be
Descarte, Schema, poems with words that rhyme with heart

There was a time
when I watched the callouses on my mothers feet
sang songs about the stars, was anointed
“Lord make me an instrument of your peace”