Clouded Judgment


My neighbor… My God! I don’t know what to do or how to control myself. I’m into him & I’m not into him. He’s interesting as fuck though. Who is he? Where is he from? I sound pathetic, yes, but is he from this planet?!? It’s like I see him & then I don’t see him. I call him “The Unicorn.” He makes me curious, I get excited when I see him, & I question if he’s real. He definitely has me thinking. It’s a different type of infatuation & curiosity. Different than the ones you get with your co-workers, like “Derek” from The Cubicle Diaries. This is my “Derek.” If I didn’t know any better I would say I live right next door to Otter fuckin’ Holmes if that’s the case! Listen to me, I sound CRAY CRAY! But my neighbor is definitely something else. & Otter Holmes is a genius, very creative. I don’t know if he pursues acting or what. He’s always laughing, crying, cackling & shouting. He watches “American Horror Story” & “The Hills” religiously. “Roseanne” & “Will & Grace” are regulars for him. I can tell he watches a lot of suspense & “Gossip Girl.” He loves playing movie soundtracks. I thought there were multiple people living there at first, but I’ve never seen anyone leave or come. Well, I mainly see people come. I hear them at random hours of the night. I think he’s schizo. A fuckin’ hot schizo. He’s either always working out or has good stamina. He loves the word “fuck” & shouting “damn bastard child.” He’s always having parties. He’s always popping champagne. He definitely goes green. Who is this rockstar?!? I can’t complain about him because he’s chummy with the crazy hot headed property manager. I even hear the property manager in there, too! Who is this, Gatsby? I don’t know what to do. I know his apartment is well decorated because he’s always hammering something into the walls. I can tell he hasn’t cooked much lately. I wonder if he’s a narrator of some show or something because he’s always saying, “Previously on…” He knows like 5 languages. He’s an early bird & a night owl. He’s so random & interesting! His style is ahead of our lifetime. We’ve crossed paths in the hall & lobby only a few times. Whenever we do I just want to converse with him. I swore I thought he was from Australia for the longest. He never takes the elevator. I know he travels frequently. Who is he & where does he go? My neighbor… II



I’m broken

I’m damaged

I’m messed up.

My dignity has turned into shame

Tortured on the inside

Scared on the outside.


I don’t know what’s right or wrong

When I look at me, I don’t even notice me

I’m a foreigner to myself, a stranger in my own life.

Lost in translation.

I don’t even know what language to speak

I don’t know myself


Did I ever?

Sin is my virtue

I thrive off of bad

Emptiness fills me

I lack the insight of beauty

I lack a moral compass

I lack judgement.

Even if I had a compass, there is no needle.

Weird is my normal

I can’t see straight

I feel blind.

Oblivion is the only clear thing available to me.

I hate myself

I’m not confident

I can’t find one quality in me

They say we are our own enemy

I can’t find a better villain.

No one wants me

Sometimes I feel worthless

Nothing seems right

I’m more than irregular

I’m flawed.


Outside In

THE_BROAD_Outside In

[I have this reoccurring fantasy…]


Let’s get to the point.

There is no sense of direction.

Go with nature.

I’m ready for this fantasy to become reality.

We’ve waited too long. No more stalling.

No more beating around the bush, just beat around the bush.

Buying myself time, I’m nearly broke.

Let’s turn down the lights to make it look like no one’s home.

But in reality we’re having a party.

& the guest list, the guest list is just you & I.

So loud everyone will think, where is that noise coming from?

Still, nowhere near done.

I want every piece of you to myself.

Put whatever is outside in

& let whatever is inside out.

Pleasure for pleasure,

Measure for measure.

I’ll do anything you want.

No holds barred.

Yes, I just played that card.

I’m the prey,

Come & hunt

Don’t be a scared little cunt.

I’m at your mercy, I’m the runt.

End of the Line


Time to refill my gas can & buy more matches.

Maybe this time I’ll be more successful.

Stupidity has cost me so much money.

Its cost me nearly everything.

There’s no hope.

I’m at the end of the line.

One spark could save everything.

One spark could ruin everything.

That spark in the dark

Is nothing but a lark.

In search of its next tune.

In search of light.

In search of something!

I have nothing left

It’s all gone.


This glass is not only half empty, it’s broken.

I’m like a dog chasing its own tail.

Make this merry-go-round stop.


Go Bye-Bye

Art Institute of Chicago (11) -- GO BYE-BYE

You wonder why no one likes you. I know you’re aware most don’t, but do YOU ever really stop & think about it? Get deep into your own dark, sad psyche. Apparently you haven’t, or don’t, because you still are the way you are. Literally. You’re a theatrical performance no one wants to pay for. Being around you has cost me a lot. Not even you like you. Everything that comes out of your mouth is a complaint. You hate the world. Cynical: yes. Full of hate: yes. Shameless: yes. Ungrateful: yes. Entitled: yes. I knew the moment I met you there was something wrong with you. I couldn’t put my finger on it. & now, my hands are full. Like a fly to the light you keep coming back. Pity. I’m over you & the drama you bring. Go Bye-bye. Better yet, “go die.” Next time I’m going to reach for my fly swatter & give you what you deserve. My judgment for you is no longer clouded.




What was hours was weeks

It could’ve been ages

When I was with you time was frozen


My soul is frozen

I’m coming down

It was fun while it lasted

I say fun

But I mean VERY FUN

It was everything I ever wanted

A conglomerate

They say it’s better to love & lost than not love @ all

I’m sprung

Not in love

It’s pure infatuation

I believe in one night stands

One night to remember.

More love poison?

Make it a double? A triple?

Let’s go for sex

I mean six

I may never have children given the amount of life you sucked out of me

Like sucking blood out of a rock

I hit the jackpot with you

Clouded Judgment

Art Institute of Chicago (107)-Clouded Judgment

They say we should make the best decisions for our well-being. I haven’t always made the right decisions, but that’s life! Clouded judgment; or, Clouded judgement. Is there a difference? There’s always a difference. Nothing is for always, nothing is forever, nothing is ever the same. It happens. It comes, it goes. It? Everything! They always do. The clouds always do. It does more than affect my decision making. My decision making for you, for him, for her, for them, for they, for myself. Choices, clouded judgment or not, on the other hand, because the grass is always greener on the other side, have created character. Blinded by the light, judgment clouded. We are who we are; I am who I am. All I’m doing is having fun. Dionysus did the stenciling; I’m just filling in the blanks & coloring a little outside of the lines. & when I say a little, I mean a lot. How do I know what’s wrong and what’s right? I try to be better, what I believe is better. I look fearless, & hot, but I’m filled with nervousness & anxiety. Only one armpit sweats. I want it all. I want to indulge. Energy channeling into any little thing possible. I’m creating the energy. I am the energy. I’m figuring it all out along the way. & somehow it’s all in my favor. Life is one big journey. I have a compass, but I don’t know how to read it. Torn between good guy/ bad guy, can’t I have the best of both worlds? The gods tell me, It don’t work like that, honey. You need to go out and get that money. Legit, or not, you better get that shit. Check your conscience at the door! Don’t be a bore, be a whore. I snapped back into what I believe is reality. A compass, just not a moral compass. I’ve been told that. I’ve also been called a “non-conformist,” if that matters. But what does matter? Especially if my judgment is clouded? I see my clouded judgment as a good thing & a bad thing, a blessing & a curse, a pro & a con; a compass alright, even if it is into the wrong direction. After all, we all are humans, I think, —&cons. Pulling off anything: a fake smile, a happy life, people you like, an orgasm. How clouded is your judgment? Are you the same person you were 5, 8, 12 14, 17 years ago? For some of you, last week, yesterday, this morning? I’m winging life by the wings & all I am doing is soaring. They say, we only live once —even if our judgment is a little clouded. Substances also tend to have the best & worst of everyone, legal or not. They cloud my judgement, but I love when my head is in the clouds.

Clouded Judgment II



One minute you’re hot, the next you’re not. Fifteen minutes is a lot. Be lucky you catch someone’s eye for fifteen seconds. All for pretend, all good fun, all for show. ‘I’m over you, on with the next’ is the mentality. Disposable encounterments. Everything is fluid. Here today, gone tomorrow. Be lucky if you stay the night. There will always be someone new, someone hotter, someone more appealing, someone younger. Don’t get it twisted. Just get yours while I get mine. Waiting for that callback, waiting for that reply. Overnight celebrity? You’re already a hasbeen. You’re already forgotten, like you’ve never existed. No time for Tindr, because always on Grindr. Not to worry, there’s plenty of fish; there’s always a match. When we cross paths in the same inner circle we all frequent, because after all it is a small community, it’s like we never met. I’ll call you if I have time, but I’m always busy so don’t hold your breath. Sought after is an understatement. You know the biz. All for show, materials are all that matters for all that sparkles. Leave while you’re ahead. Indulge in the moment, because there’s no guarantee of anything in life, especially another chance; death & taxes are an exception. Even the cream of the crop only lasts for so long. Everything expires, nothing is forever or always. No promises, no strings attached. Netflix is a continuous streaming service, so it’s continuous, but movies only last for a few hours. The experience & opportunity was a fantasy, a dream come true. Now it’s more like a nightmare. Sorry, sweetie, there won’t be a sequel, a remake, a spinoff. Who’s doing who the favor? Always wanting what only you want & I’m the diva? Oh, & I changed my mind, all you’re getting is an uncredited cameo. Your performance was so poor it won’t get recognition. Sleeping to the top? But I’m on top. Get over yourself, you’re not attractive, you’re not hot. Maybe next lifetime! I know, it’s hard playing a game where there are no rules. The people who run the show are heartless & cruel. We all want that one thing. Check your conscience & morals at the door. Wanna be a rough rider? You better hold on tight, because shit gets bumpy & intense & at the end of the day it’s all about you & your needs & wants & who you know. Thicken your skin. Grow some balls & figure out if this is really good you.



Somehow I have managed to scare people off.

Somehow I have managed to burn yet another bridge!

Somehow I have managed to isolate myself.

Somehow this time around this low is lower than before.

Somehow I need the bottle more now than when I was an infant.

Somehow I’m back @ square one.

But somehow,

When I finally picked myself up,

My fatass up,

Because I felt so heavy & low;

I was a tipped over refridgerator.

I realized I am stronger than I was when I fell flat on my face.

I’m reinforced,

I’m reborn,

Like the phoenix,


I am ready to meet the new version of the old me.

Makes me think,

I was surrounded by nothing but dirty pigeons,

Replaceable by the flock.

Maybe it was them

Not me.


Art Institute of Chicago (182) -- HOTTT MESS

I’m easy, not dumb

I’m nice, not a pushover

I’m gangsta, not a gangster

I’m thirsty, not dehydrated

I’m needy, not desperate

I’m materialistic, not fake

I’m sleepy, not tired

I’m evil, not mean

I’m lazy, not sloppy

I’m silly, not stupid

I’m relevant, not a hasbeen

I’m pondering, not dwelling

I’m fantasizing, not dreaming

I’m inquisitive, not nosy

I smoke weed, not a drug attic

I’m drunk often, not an alcoholic

I’m a little bit of everything, not YOUR average Joe

I’m alone, not lonely

I’m rich in character, not rich –yet

I’m crazy, not insane

I’m sorry, not sorry

I’m forgiving, not apologetic

I’m attractive, not fine

I’m hot, not sexy

I’m blond, not dumb

I’m fly, not lame

I’m voluptuous, not fat

I’m firm, not aggressive

I’m funny, not a comedian –& not funny looking

I’m flashy, not trashy although a little trashy don’t hurt nobody

I’m pissed, not angry

I’m full of life, not full of shit

I’m smart, but make dumb choices –on occasion

I’m a hot mess, not a mess; there’s nothing wrong with being a mess as long as you’re a hot one.

I’m me, not you –& thank God for that!




I was at a slumber party with my thoughts.

My daydreams have got me in trouble.

My fantasies have caused me problems.

I’m not thinking,

My mind is on auto-everything.

Curiosity killed the cat.

I’m on my 8th life.

I’m pushing it,

Skating on thin ice.




I need to pace myself.

I need to wake the fuck up.

Stop and smell the coffee.

I still believe

There’s Something in the Coffee.

Thank God for The Week!

Art Institute of Chicago (132)_Thank God for The Week!

It’s like a re-run,

Every time.

A re-run of my favourite show.

Lots of room for syndication.

These plotlines aren’t yet played out.

I can still manage.

They say time flies when you’re having fun.

It’s like the weekend never occurred; everything is one big blur.

I do good all week, then bad all weekend.

Work hard, play harder.

Go big or go home?

I never go home.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

Sometimes I feel like my keycard to the gates has been deactivated.

Someone cancel my credit card!

Recuperation. Remorse. Recovery. Repeat.

All only to start back at square one.

During the week my mind is clear,

But during the weekend,

My judgment is altered,


When it’s a long weekend I’m screwed.

& that’s when I say,

Thank God for the week.



Death & Taxes are the only things we’re assured in life. That & heartache. Expect nothing, assume nothing. I’m not even rich & I have to pay taxes. & I mean actually pay taxes, not when I buy something –legal. When most file their income taxes for a refund, I’m now filing income taxes to give the government a refund. You’re the best, Uncle Sam! 😀 But that’s one of life’s true promises. There’s only two, by the way. Life can let you down, yes, but don’t say it never kept its promises. Does that mean I’m closer to getting the other one? Is it a step in the right direction? Does it mean I’m “successful” or “making it” because I am now paying taxes? What about when I make MORE money? But why am I so broke? I’m not. I’m just cheap. At least I don’t think I’m broke? But if I’m broke, then why am I paying taxes? If I’m broke & having to pay taxes the government is fooling me. I highly doubt that was the first time I was fooled by the government. Could it be my clouded judgment? I will not bust a Wesley Snipes though. I am too much of a chicken. Does it mean I need to have a bastard child, or buy property so I have something to write-off? & not write-off like the way I write-off little bitches. That’s more like right-off without them! But with buying property comes paying property tax. & the great state of Illinois is NOTORIOUS for their hiked property taxeses. It’s funny because they make it look so easy buying property here. Hmmmmmm…….. I’m seeing a pattern. Judgment not so clouded. Nothing is ever enough. Is that me, or is it just my ambition? My ambition to want to discover, know, & have everything else life can’t promise? To want to know, experience, & exercise my free will. They’ve asked me, “Where do you get your drive from?” They’ve also asked me a lot of other questions —like, “Why am I so real?” [–Bobby Brown] [LOL]. Could be Britney also. But let’s just stick with Bobby. Is it that luck is on my side? Is the universe in my favour? I love when they ask if they can pick at my brain. & I’m like, you want my brain? There seems to be more questions than answers. Life & its curiosities, especially the creatures we meet. Someone once told me, “You must respect yourself.” Someone also told me to not talk to strangers, but some of the best people I’ve met were strangers. & sadly for some, they are more of a stranger now than when I met them, even more so when I thought I knew them. All I can do is have fun along the way & take care of business. That business that makes me earn that money. That money to pay taxes on. Am I setting myself up for failure? They say, it’s a vicious cycle. All I know is I’m alive, awake, & dreaming, yet death is on my tail. But I won’t let it get me. Catch me if you can, mofo! Life is one big learning experience, life is one big game; life is a rat race & I don’t know if I’m a mouse or a possum. There’s no winning, or is there?



I like being alone. I feel like the only time I can get shit done is when I’m in solidarity. Am I only productive because I have no speed bumps on my route? Is it because my battery is fully charged, a fresh oil change? I do travel further & see a whole other side of things, life. That thing called ‘life.’ Solitude fits me like a glove, a love glove. Like something sent from above. I get off, but no one gets me off like I get me off. Am I throwing you off? I’m not about to go soft. I was born alone, I’m going to die alone. Like Shakespeare, I wanna die on my birthday. Lots of fun adventures along the way. I always have fun. I’ve had some great passengers. But the highest & best notes while singing in the car have been when I’ve been alone. Solidarity. I love me. I have me, me is all I need. All the people in my head give me the best & only company I need, but I’m not a looney. I like people –when they’re not around me. I hate social media. I disconnected my mobile & went back to a landline. I’m OLD-school like that. If you wanna find me, you know how to find me. But I’m not an agoraphobic nor do I hate people. I just really love me & the singularity life has to offer. If I was not me, I would date me. Having people in my life is a distraction. Please, do not disturb.

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Recycled paper is where some of the most important writings come from. Recycled paper truly is the gift that keeps on giving. “Stop wasting paper!” They say. I think, you’re not wasting paper, you’re creating new life. I invest in paper. I’m for the paper. It’s all about the paper! Better get that paper.

A tree represents life. When a tree is chopped down & magically turned into paper, that paper isn’t only a piece, literally, it is a piece of something new, new life. It can turn into nearly anything. Bad idea, good idea: is there such a thing? After all, the “wasted” paper is then recycled.

Thoughts jotted down. Those thoughts attended to & then edited, for perfectional purposes. Then the writer does something about that piece of work he created. A book –of recycled paper– gets published. The book gets adapted for television, a movie spins off, & those, too, will have scripts printed on recycled paper. Imagine all the people who’ve relied off of that piece of recycled paper that was going to be thrown away & recycled with lost thoughts? But the writer had the idea to save it & jot something even more down; an idea that created a masterpiece.

That tangible feeling. The pen to the paper is like a heroin-filled syringe to a fiend’s vein. Words misspelled, writing so fast so your thoughts won’t slip your mind, everything out of order –who cares! That’s what editing is for. Just get your thoughts down. Penny for your thoughts? Mine are priceless. It’s all circular. Some say a vicious cycle. I say, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”



Sugar & Spice

Everything nice

Stay on my good side

“You’ll be OK” should suffice.


Fire & Ice

Break me off with a piece of that,

Cut me a slice.

You’re so sly.

We’ll see how long you stay fly.

There’s only one person who laughs last

& that is I.


They say, “opposites attract.”

I was never intact.


So go,

Make your way.

Mourn because I’m no longer in your life.

& while you’re at it

Stock up on the tissue

Because it won’t be I

Who cries


We’re incompatible.

You’re virtue,

I’m vice.

Oh isn’t that nice.

What a delight.

Sugar & spice.

Leave the Left Behind

NOLA_Leave the Left Behind

I left to change. Leave the left behind. They say, old habits die hard. & speaking from experience, they do. But as of late I had another, another awakening. The gods are talking to me. It’s best I turn the volume down & take out my iPod earplugs. Follow the signs. Hunter as a Horse can wait. Back to this awakening. I have to say, it was a little rude one. A little rudeness don’t hurt. Me at least. All it does is wake you up. Leave the left behind. Take a cold shower when you get home. It was beneficial. As everything is. The shower & the awakening. They say, it all works out in the end. & I believe it does. Even if the end feels invincible. Even if the end is all we have. There’s something there. Misery loves company & death is always there, but life has so much to tell. Listen. Do yourself a favor, leave the left behind. You have to take the good with the bad. You have to work for what you want. Those days of expecting everything to fall into your lap are long gone. Stop being so naïve, leave the left behind. I realized that I was repeating certain patterns of a lifestyle I chose to leave behind. I realized I left to change, & the only thing that changed was my zip code & wardrobe. Exercising is a work in progress & let’s just say, I’m under construction. Leave the left behind. Rome wasn’t built in a day. I would know I’ve been there. Aside from being mildly rude, this awakening was bittersweet. I want to say a shitty feeling & then I snapped out of it. Cold shower round 2? Bounced back into shape like a rubber band; like a teenage girl who just gave birth & is back to her normal size before she got knocked up. Leave the left behind. Could it be that I am actually growing up? I’m not afraid of it, I opt for it. I want to grow into this magical being, more magical than I already am. We all have our talents & flaws. Death can go chase its own tail. Time to put my best foot forward & officially move on from what is the past. No more looking back, no more wanting to tie up loose ends. They’re loose for a reason & now they’ll be lost. Let your intuition be your compass. We don’t get anywhere going backwards. All it is is something to do. Look at all the reboots & remakes. Memories fade. Let it flow, let go what no longer serves you, leave the left behind.

Pebbles & Diamonds

NOLA_Pebbles & Diamonds

Once upon a time I had nothing, nothing. I wanted so much more, anything. I had all sorts of pebbles I called diamonds. Fantasies were my reality, then my reality became a nightmare. Yearning for celebrity & fame. I hated everything. I had nothing. Once you cross that line nothing will be the same. I wanna live forever. Diamonds are forever, after all. We all wanna be seen. We all wanna be known. We all wanna shine, live glamourous. Have all sorts of champagne & wine. Worried about the outside & never about the in. Fuck doing good. I’m gonna live in luxury & sin! Pebbles & diamonds: Is there a difference? Earth’s creation, that’s all that matters, right? Wait, I can’t be too naïve & unrealistic. Or can I? Then I got everything I wanted & more. Only the strong survive. That is the difference. Right? Pebbles get brushed away & diamonds just get brushed & pampered; treated like royalty. Beautiful in their own way. Isn’t everything though? Not everything. Then I lost everything. Didn’t even get a goodbye call. Not even a warning. Gone faster than everything came. I’m OK with the change. Do I have a choice? I want pebbles now. No diamonds. Back to basics. Diamonds clouded my judgment too much. Pebbles keep me real. I tell them to go kick rocks, & the first steps are always the most difficult.

Assurance Repetition


I lost myself when I was around you.

I didn’t like who or what I was becoming.

I miss the old me, I belong to me.

The aftermath of this repetitious pattern assures me I don’t like living like this.

I’m upset with myself.

I definitely wasn’t myself.

And when I say I don’t like living like this,

That means I don’t like living with you in my life,

In case it doesn’t register so quickly.

I would say,

It’s not you, it’s me,

But in all actuality,

I think it is you & not me.

Fun along the Way

Art Institute of Chicago (62)_Fun along the Way

Final destination approached.

It has been quite the journey.

I’m letting everything go.

Returned my keys.

I had lots of highs,

Lots of lows,

Lots of friends.

Many foes.

It finally ends.


& let’s not forget the hoes.

I’m gonna miss my clothes.

But now it’s time,

I must go.

Fun along the way.

‘Me’ Party

Art Institute of Chicago (87) -- 'ME' PARTY

Self I say, you have other plans tonight?

Fuck the rest!

I’m the best.

The after-party is in my nest.

A few bottles of champagne

Make an open bar.

No need to leave

Or drive far.

Dress to impress.

I have a feeling

I’m going to make a mess.

No haters,

No drama.

You can’t come,

But maybe that daddy

& sugar mama.

I am the audience,

I am the performer.

 Never a dull moment.

Twists & turns everywhere.

Entertainment galore.

 No one makes me bust the way I make me bust.

Any other shindig

Is left in the dust.

I’m high,

I’m happy,

Sorry for leaving you hanging,

Sorry your presence is crappy.

I’m the guest list, I’m the VIP, I’m the security.

After tonight,

I’m going to pray for purity.

After a while

I’ll have to say,

Someone please

Call the police!

I should’ve did something less chaotic,

Now my landlord is going to want to cancel my lease!

My neighbors think I’m at capacity.

Raise the roof,

It’s on fire.

Pass the dutch.

Let’s get higher & higher.

Time of my life,

I’m the best company.

I got me, myself, & I.

I’m about to hit a blackout,

I hope I don’t die.

Sorry Not Sorry

PORTLAND_ (278)_Sorry Not Sorry

I’ll apologize,

If I have to.

But I’m not gonna be sorry for me.

I don’t regret me, I’m only human.

Or am I?

For you,

On the other hand,

It’s too late to apologize.

Sorry Not Sorry.


Art Institute of Chicago (73)_Accountability

I blame myself for everything

I blame myself for making the choices I’ve made

I blame myself for the pain I’ve caused, mainly to myself

I blame myself for agreeing to go out

I blame myself for spending all my money

I blame myself for falling for you even though I knew we were nothing

I blame myself for feeling this shitty way

I blame myself for losing everything

I blame myself for losing you

I blame myself for my unhappiness

I simply blame myself

Sad You

Sad You

Always giving me shit because

I didn’t want to hang

There came a point where I wasn’t part of the gang.

To school for cool

If only you knew

What exactly do you have going

For yourself?

What exactly do you want

From life?

You’re so sad, you, & dull,

Here’s another knife.

My food wrappers from the neighborhood joint have more personality than you.

Now all this time has passed

& you still have nothing to show for.

Get the steppin’

There’s the door.

Who’s laughing now?

Ha ha.

You’re so

Blah blah!

Why don’t you go

Wah wah!

Fuckin’ baby!


I should’ve cut off you long before I actually did.

When did I get all these

Accomplishments done?

You ask how.

While you were crying,

& moping,

& having fun at your

Lame places drinking sugar water,

My thirst & passion for success grew hotter & hotter

And you’re still notter & notter.

Unlike you I actually did something about it:


You’re so sad,

Get outta my sight.

You have nothing,


Go get a yourself a first-aid kit.



When I fantasize about you, I’m on a blackout.

When I’m with you, I’m on a blackout.

When we begin to kiss, I’m on a blackout.

When we’re making love, I’m on a blackout.

When we’re fucking, I’m on a blackout.

When we’re beefing it, I’m on a blackout.

When we love, I’m on a blackout.

When we hate, I’m on a blackout.

When we argue, I’m on a blackout.

When we’re on top of the world, I’m on a blackout.

When I’m feeling low, I’m on a blackout.

When I’m high, I’m on a blackout.

The repercussions of a fight with you leads me to a blackout.

Screw everything around me,

I’m on a blackout.

SOP for the SOB

SOP for the SOB

Act I: Paths Crossed

Act II: The Hang Out

Act III: Out Come the Freaks (Not only at Night)

Act IV: The Morning After: Marathon of Shame

Act V: Disappearing Act (Apparition Status)



Welcome to your new home,

Welcome to your new landing.

Let the games begin.

You’re not in La La Land anymore,


Anything can happen here.

New territory,

New stomping ground.

You’re bound

To find a fox

You little hound.

Lots of new,

Lots of hotness,

Be careful though,

You’re not immortal.

The Chi-guy who isn’t so shy.

Time for a fresh start,

No more hot mess.

But then again they say, old habits die hard.

Fuck all you’ve left behind,

You can’t even see scars.

No one knows you here.

Take a chance,

That’s all you’ve ever done.

All four seasons,

The sky is always moving

Get your best attire.

Always on the grind,

No time to be tired.

Finding comfort,

Living in happiness.

Secrets of a Con

21C (11) -- SECRETS OF A CON

I steal. I lie. I cheat. I’m as real as the mannequins in the store windows. I purposely don’t even have my own birth certificate anymore. I burned it, for security reasons. I steal from the company I work for. I steal school supplies. I steal toiletries. I steal riders’ transit receipts to get reimbursed for utilizing public transportation. I eat my coworkers’ lunch straight out of their containers, in front of them at times. I steal condiments from every restaurant I go to. Even some restaurants I don’t even dine at! I steal utensils & kitchen supplies. I hate places that use Styrofoam. Fuckin’ cheapasses! I’ve opened so many bank accounts to get the sign-on bonus they give new customers. I’ll work at random part-time jobs until my direct deposit goes through & then disappear, even more so before they find out my identity is not what I said it was. I collect every piece of currency I find, except for Monopoly money. Pick pocketing was my baby steps to the all-star I am today. I have the skeleton key to every residence I have ever resided at. I even made copies of the keys that say, ‘Do Not Copy.’ I’ve never lived in the same city twice. I’m a pirate. I’ve never paid for a CD or movie, but I sure have slanged them. I’m a con-artist, I get what I want. The moon guides me. I have Low-Jack on every car I’ve “owned,” so when I need to bust a mission I have a getaway car. & if the new owner lives out of state even better! More points for me because this is all a game. I’m not stealing the car, I’m borrowing it. I do, after all, have the original key. Whenever I pass through a toll I make sure black trash bags are over the license plates, except for when I’m in a previously owned car, then I’m in a purple or pink wig with John Lennon glasses on. Speaking of hair… I’ve had nearly every hair color you can think of. There were times I had no hair at all. I never ever look into a surveillance camera. You’ll always see me in designer sunglasses, even at night. You can’t con a con-artist, I’m two steps ahead of you –n the shoes I stole from you, or charged on your card. Department store cards: I’ve had them all. Not on my credit though. My lies are the truth. My fakeness is the real thang. I haven’t paid rent in years. I’ve couch surfed & get bills mailed to fake addresses. “Return to sender.” HA! Who needs money to be rich? Technically all my bills are paid. My fake IDs look REALLY fake, but they still let me slide. What’s the highest ‘gamy’ you can have? Because I’ve been married so many times. None of my significant others know the real me. I even went gay a few times. When they want a pre-nup, that’s when I know they ain’t legit. One might say I’m just a cheapass, but no, I’m an artist, a con-artist. Don’t get it twisted. I already have you in my pocket. This is my job, my career. I know someone sees me as a role model. I inspired Joanne the Scammer. Lots of training has been invested. I have an image to maintain. I only roll with role models & the elite; those whose paper, amongst other things, are really long. They’re about as real as me. & by other things I mean carpets that are red, of course. This is a profession. One of the oldest. Right next to being a whore. & well, I’ve got some of my best cons under my belt having to multitask. I’m known as so many people at Starbucks & CBTL. I’ve won so much on the radio. I should be a personality. I know them, but they don’t know me. I have chipped cable, a chipped phone, a chipped EBT card. About this lifestyle? It’s all so hard. To cover my tracks, I even stole my own identity. I did me the worst & the best. Lock me up & throw away the key. If & only if you can catch me.

An excerpt of ‘Sex with Strangers’

the_BROAD_An excerpt of “Sex with Strangers”

I was on the train. I woke from a blackout with a random person waving a little clear baggy with white powder in my face. How does he know I like coke? I thought immediately. What did I say to get me here?! I realized where I was & immediately got off & waited for the train going the opposite direction. He followed me. After a few seconds I turned around to see where he was. I grew surprised when I noticed he began up the escalator. He was going his own way. Probably somewhere to bone or do all that coke. Many emotions filled my body: nervousness, drunkenness, tiredness, edginess, a craving for coke, but most of all: horniness. I called him back. He came running down the escalator that was going the opposite direction. We both wanted something. I looked around & then pulled him to the side. Once the coast was clear, I rubbed his erected penis to make sure he was up. & then I pulled up my dress, grabbed his penis & stuck it in me. I was wet instantly. Warmness filled both of our bodies. We were in sync. I picked up my leg up for easier access & a deeper feeling. We began to fuck right there, at the train station.

My eyes rolled back. It was good. I wrapped myself around him. As he fucked me, without a condom, I reached into his pocket where the coke was & stole the baggy of white magic. He didn’t even notice, or did he? I looked down the tunnel & saw the train’s headlights grow brighter.

“You have seconds,” I told him. He pumped harder & moaned louder. Now I know someone heard that one! It echoed. Thrill was at a height, but I was already getting over it. I saw the headlights grow brighter. I pulled him out of me. His throbbing dick swung in the air. It glistened from my wetness. It was shiny! He was pretty well endowed. I saw formed headlights. I faced the train. His back was toward it; our backs toward each other. He put one hand on the wall & began to finish himself. The conductor more into view. He became clearer & clearer as he grew nearer & nearer.

The stranger let out one last moan & came. Finally! Doesn’t he know that when you fuck at a random public place you need to bust with the quickness?!? Someone does NOT understand the meaning of a ‘quickie!’ He came on the wall. His semen splattered against the tile. It ran down. I was already fixed up. The train arrived. No goodbyes were exchanged. I walked around the pillar to a car on the side. I walked in the train like nothing & went straight to the joining corridor where no one was. I got a whiff of piss. I looked around again non-chalantly & then did a key bump of my newly scored coked. I was finally headed in the right direction, to home sweet home.


[‘Secrets of a Con’ & ‘G.Wood’ photo courtesy of 21C Museum, Louisville, KY. / ‘Go Bye-Bye,’ ‘Fun along the Way,’ ‘Accountability,’ ‘’Me’ Party,’ ‘Clouded Judgment,’ ‘Thank God for The Week!’ & ‘Hottt Mess’ photo courtesy of Art Institvte of Chicago, Chicago, IL. / ‘’ photo courtesy of Parthenon Museum, Nashville, TN. / ‘Outside In,’ ‘An excerpt of ‘Sex with Strangers’,’ ‘Flawed,’ ‘Blackout,’ ‘Assurance Repetition,’ ‘Sad You,’ ‘SOP for the SOB’ photo courtesy of The Broad Art Museum, Los Angeles, CA. / all photos taken & edited by Otter Holmes]


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