This is an ancient, five-year-old poem I produced during a time of pain equal to three decillion (don’t worry, I had to look it up too) elephants sitting on one’s back. I will begin sharing new work soon (creative and otherwise), but the hustle and bustle of NYC keeps calling me back. Thank you for those who have followed the blog despite my inconsistency, and please consider following if you enjoy this poem or other entries. Have a great day.
I want hot cookies fresh from the oven,
Delivered by a naked Filipina maid.
I want her to work for free because
She thinks I’m sexy, and because
She loves me in this fantasy.
I want to love hard with no reservations
At Heartbreak Hotel. I want to live
In paradise, my pessimism brings me Hell.
I want to read a book without niggas
Asking me, “Do you read?” I want to feed
My mind, body and soul, but there’s no
Place to express myself: I am an old
Twenty year old. I want to bring
World peace, but one man is but one piece
Of the community. I want to write
Intricate shit stupid motherfuckers get,
But they lack empathy and wit so I quit
Writing for a while. I want to dream dreams
Of simple things that come true.
I don’t want to disappoint myself,
So I don’t think of you.
I want to stop feigning, stop
Hurting, stop hoping
For you to come back
With a sack of cookies and nothing on
But your love