The Pursuit Of

we real cool

we beat slow

mellow flow hold

the fluidity at a

decibel of a syllable

go

vent

we street meat

in the belly

we brew steady heavy

live accents &

accidents

 

No Dash Needed

I am not   African-American

there’s no dash needed

if anything

I am

a native spook who sat by the door

listening for opportunity,

devout in my non

ever

shifting

identifty

making lemonade.

I am

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mines & mines only

I am mine & mine only

I am mine & mine only

I am mines & mines only

I am mine & mine only

It’s okay, I won’t let you

fall again.

She held her close

this little piece of herself.

 

Manifest Destiny

The headphones drown out the cries of the hungry as the train rages on like a metallic dragon. She is pretty. The homeless chick. Her voice booms even with the music turned up in my ears, leading me to believe she is well practiced in this art.

Come, Time

Come,

time to put away childish things

emotions strewn about the floor

pick em up

shove em into your toy chest

let them rest away

where those who won’t break them

will scoop them up to play

by A. Long

Wanting

wanting to mend

that’s all I have at the end of the day

digging a dent

into my side of the bed

wanting to want to

but never leaving

 

 

Taurus

the breathe

is fire in the belly

the soul

nurture 

fill your lungs with the flame of desire

hurl hesitation on the pyre

and jump into the arms of lovers

holdfast to dreams 

discover

an inner torch 

can burn

and breath

finer

Again

mangle my name in your mouth

choke on each syllable

tangled

as the curls in my hair

thick

as the fated course we’re on

destiny is a four lettered word

that you can’t pronounce

Go home

repatriate yourself

swim in the bowels of the womb

that birthed you

and

make yourself new

learn a love, cut it up, bake it

into your grin

like cinnamon

blend

then

tell me

my name again

–A. Long