The day yawns, I look out, hand on my window pane
Violet petals fall, their beauty can’t be feigned
It’s that time of year for jacaranda rain
There’s a lonely white car near the bicycle lane
And all over this car are violent violet stains
Ah yes, it does that, that jacaranda rain
A man looks at it with disdain, he’s going insane
It’s all on the hood, tires, and woodgrain
He should’ve known about that jacaranda rain
His sunroof is open, purple explodes like propane
Can’t wait to hear the owner bitch and complain
Wet blooms on the interior, thanks jacaranda rain
I don’t like him anyway, I say fuck that mayne
I’d pay money to ruin his day again and again
He stands with arms akimbo like the street’s his terrain
His face turns red, veiny forehead shows strain
At the end of my rope — of my existence, he is the bane
I try to stay cool, but my inner monologue gets profane
I rally my neighbors and start a smear campaign
He thwarts our efforts through some type of legerdemain
I dream of him before a train, being split apart in twain
My mind’s telling me yes, but my body shall restrain
We regrouped to brainstorm, the upper hand we will regain
We got his keychain, the details of how I won’t explain
In his car, we planted some cocaine we obtained
He got arrested the next day, today he’ll be arraigned
We celebrate with champagne and red wine from Spain
Only memories of victory now when I see jacaranda rain

EMILY: Does anyone ever realize life while they live it…every, every minute?
STAGE MANAGER: No. Saints and poets maybe…they do some.

– Thornton Wilder, Our Town

The children of children by the time they’re half grown have habits like rabbits and young of their own
The children of children from their mamas laps hop down to the ground to be taken in traps
The children of children trapped by dark skins to stay in and play in a game no one wins
The children of children while still young and sweet are all damned and programmed for future defeat
The children of children are trapped by adults who fail them then jail them to hide the results
The children of children unable to cope with systems that twist them and rob them of hope
The children of children of sin and ashamed keep pairing and bearing and who do you blame
The children of children cry out every day – they beg you for rescue and what do you say?

—Oscar Brown, Jr.

Resumé

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Frustration

If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;

Or had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.

But I have no lethal weapon-
Thus does Fate our pleasure step on!
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.

The Danger of Writing Defiant Verse

And now I have another lad!
No longer need you tell
How all my nights are slow and sad
For loving you too well.

His ways are not your wicked ways,
He’s not the like of you.
He treads his path of reckoned days,
A sober man, and true.

They’ll never see him in the town,
Another on his knee.
He’d cut his laden orchards down,
If that would pleasure me.

He’d give his blood to paint my lips
If I should wish them red.
He prays to touch my finger-tips
Or stroke my prideful head.

He never weaves a glinting lie,
Or brags the hearts he’ll keep.
I have forgotten how to sigh—
Remembered how to sleep.

He’s none to kiss away my mind—
A slower way is his.
Oh, Lord! On reading this, I find
A silly lot he is.

Americans. We’ll leave our kids in the car, but we’ll bring our dogs into the restaurant.

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” Who the hell’s ever done that?!

There’s a medical facility called “New Vision Dental.” So which one is it?

Why is it that I always immediately hate the person sitting next to me on flights?

Watching subhumans try to figure out where their seats are and how the alphabet and numbers work has to be one of the 9 rings of hell.

Signs you’re on a flight to LA:

• People with more than 2 hair colors
• People with dogs
• The person next to can’t stop blowing his nose
• People dressed like anime characters for no apparent reason
• Thousands of yoga pants

I’m at a point in life where coffee doesn’t have much of an effect on me anymore. Honestly, sometimes it makes me tired. I need to try adding a supplement next time. Maybe I’ll mix my coffee with some pain.

Birthdays aren’t special. It’s just the day your mom got tired of carrying you around and decided to do something about it.

It’s funny how some people work out and then go straight to Starbucks and order the sweetest caffeinated drinks on Earth.

Why do gas stations have fractional prices, like $4.50 9/10?

Those who say “money isn’t everything” are usually those who wouldn’t give up any of their money.

[Malice’s verse]

Rappers is talking to me as if (come on)
We in the same boat I tell them quick, “No, I move coke” (uh-uh)
And you and I don’t share no common bond
So forgive me if I don’t receive you with open arms (No)
It shames me to no end
To feed poison to those who could very well be my kin (uh-huh)
But where there’s demand, someone will supply
So I feed them their needs, at the same time, cry
Yes, it pains me to see them need this
All of them lost souls and I’m their Jesus
Deepest regret and sympathy to the streets
I seen them pay for they fix when they kids couldn’t eat (so sorry)
And with this in mind, I still didn’t quit
And that’s how I know that I ain’t shit (I ain’t shit)
My heart bleed but that’s aside from the fact
I live for my kids and theirs and them youngins after that

— From “I’m Not You” by Clipse (feat. Jadakiss, Styles P., and Rosco P. Coldchain)

Rain drops.
Tiktok.
Nonstop.
Cars.
Bad chick.
Addict.
Manwich.
Bars.

Green grass.
Mean ass.
Lean mass.
Jag.
Jim jam.
Flim flam.
Bim bam.
Swag.

Criss cross.
Fish sauce.
Lip gloss.
Laugh.
Splick boaf.
Plick plose.
Vik toes.
Giraffe.

Blee bwack.
Tee shlpapp.
Zea-claxx.
Nyle.
HoKo.
Fo feaux.
Glo glo.
Fvile.

Kciz klaz
Schim pfas.
Quiw wath.
__roah!
k3iad akddi
afi393 n#(8ad
@#2 <bjaov!

Sccccrrrrrriiiiirrrrrrrrr!!!

We Real Cool
Gwendolyn Brooks

The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing gin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

———————–

Baba Says Cool for Thought
Ayesha Jaco

They thought it was cool to burn crosses on your front lawn as they hung you from trees in your backyard
They thought it was cool to leave you thirsty and stranded, Katrina
He thought it was cool to carry a gun in his classroom and open fire, Virginia Tech, Columbine, stop the violence
They thought it was cool to tear down the projects and put up million dollar condos, gentrification
They think it’s cool to stand on the block hiding product in their socks to make quick dime bag dollars

They think it’s cool to ride down on you in blue and white unmarked cars busting you upside your head

Freeze

Cause the problem is we think it’s cool too

Check your ingredients before you overdose on The Cool

Looking forward to new memories.
Cradles, swaddling thoughts in layers of nostalgia.

Hopping off the jetbridge
Being welcomed by tiny stings from mosquitoes
And incessant creaks & croaks from cicadas
There’s no place like home.

The only place where I can sit down with my friend from birth
and talk about all the woulda, coulda, shouldas
and the will do’s and will nots
in an acrid, bitter tone while sipping refreshing sweet tea.

Where your nearest neighbor is at least two football fields away
Yet you can hear them playing spades or poker or war or tonk
and their gin or whiskey or rum swishing around in the bottle. “No sandbags.”

Strangers wave and nod their heads at other strangers because
that’s what they do ’cause that’s what their folks did and what their parents did
’cause that’s just what we do.

Where you’ll see more churches than ants,
you’ll smell more pine than jacarandas,
you’ll feel more humidity than emotions
you’ll see more open palms than middle digits

A place where history lives right next door to legacy,
Ancient oaks still bear scars from braided ropes,
Heritage and hate still scuffle on battlegrounds,
And blood still fertilizes the crops and seeds.

Back where my great-uncle taught me how to catch when my pops was away defending the land.
Where I came face to face with a rattlesnake and was close to not being
Where the fickle claim to have your back until they turn theirs.
Where the good and the bad, the right and the wrong all live in the gray.

Dorothy had it right.
There’s no place like home.
But we’re not in Oz or Kansas.
A place just as strange, just as ordinary
Where you’re just as there as you are here
You can’t ever be home
If you never let home be you

[Verse 1]
I’ve made up my mind
Don’t need to think it over
If I’m wrong, I am right
Don’t need to defer no further
This ain’t just,
I know this is debt, but
If I sell my world,
I’ll never make enough
‘Cause it was not a lot of cake
And that’s exactly what I need to scrape
If I consolidate

[Chorus]
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments
Even if it leads nowhere?
Or would it be a waste,
Even if I knew my place?
Should I leave it there?
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments
Even if it leads nowhere?

[Verse 2]
I build my credit up
And chase my tail in circles
Waiting as my score drops
And my bank begins to tinker
Financially, could this be it, or?

[Chorus]
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments
Even if it leads nowhere?
Or would I catch a case,
Even if I hid from Chase?
Should I grieve or care?
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments
Even if it leads to despair? Yeah

[Breakdown]
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments?
I eat ice soup, this I swear.
Or would the IRS be okay,
Even if I changed my face?
Should I die my hair?
Should I give up?
Or should I be erasing payments?
Should I just keep on chasing payments?
Oh, oh

[Chorus]
Should I give up?
Or should I just be evading payments
Even if it leads to jail?
Or would it be real safe,
If I flew to outer space?
Should I leave me there?
Should I give up?
Or should I just keep chasing payments
Even if it leads nowhere?