blink in 

(turistas fan out in the necropolis
dun-fleshed men on a mission
snorting chlorella for a visionary arc
to build a proof
a pipe dream
a manna machine for all
the mice to feed on)

blink out 

change of address

i find comfort in wonders that shiver
in glitter and reek of death. i live in the spaces
between incongruous juxtaposition &
i provide no reference for false memory trips.
i’m not the go-to gal; a bandito lives and breathes
behind my rotary eyes.

sloshed as fuck, i’m taking the vessel offline
skimming skiffs the world over, trading plastic for spices i can feel
through my high-lighter veins. my return is purple
fury, highly conceptually & fully braced 
with a saltwater back.  

please don’t ask for me. 

who’s on next?

phantom 40s with no stream to intent
no proof needed when touting tokens 
vying for post racial positions 
death incarnate remains bullet proof

on sandy shores resplendent  
a thousand autopsies hit hard to come by
the sin of looting matters more than lives 
barely counted as human

the love of flies fishing for the comfort
of shit eating grins
of all important vacay pics — lol don’t worry
he’s already dead

little boy blue is long gone but not unpaid
as justice only counts toward the institutions
with talking points well-fitted to uproot the basics
of bottom barrel decency

to avoid causal inevitability 
the public eye eats away at uncommon values
while other people’s problems
stew in invisible blood


America are you not shamed yet?
America your streets are burning.

your justice is said to be blind
but it is your children
who can not see your justice.

America I would ask when this will all be over,
but a finish line is too far ahead to exist.

your streets are burning America
and it is nothing new.