Free Entry 1
"You Are Ruining This Deal For The Rest Of Us"
I have seen a homeless man possessing a five gear bike,
guitar, and bookbag, put away his string and emo tunes
only to pull out a cellular and become ecstatic about
the big news of the day: a popular spot a few blocks away
just opened up. He packed up and moved away from the rest
of us. I told myself, every time I pass a homeless or a thumb
looking for a ride or person trekking for gas, I will pick up the next one.
I will freeze you in my brain and pick up the next one that’s like you,
but I can’t pick you up this time, I’m late for class for work
for hookups. The homeless are tied down to nothing, so I can’t
catch up to them. My life will not be complete until I give some
person a ride. Only then can they stab me steal my debit complete me.
Free Entry 2
"Masculinity"
When I told my best friend of the time
that my mother passed away from breast cancer,
he seized the cream walls of the North Fayette restroom
like a Miltonian Samson, ready to break the center,
though he actually grabbed his temples
and began to cry for his uncle, began to show me how to cry,
Though his uncle isn’t worth more than my mother,
but I appreciated the nod. Boys aren’t supposed to cry
unless they get lost in K-Mart or kicked off the T-Ball team.
Boys aren’t supposed to lose their mothers at age 10,
but I knew I’d make it because my grandfather lost his mother at 9
and Samson, probably 9 at the time,
showed me how to break down masculinity
in times of crisis, thought the crisis never really exists.
-------------------
Improv 1
"In The Movies" by Marie Howe
When a man rapes a woman because he's a soldier and his army's won,
there's always somebody else holding her down, another man,
so the men do it together, or one after the other,
in the way my brothers shot hoops on the driveway with their friends
while we girls watched. Their favorite game was PIG.
A body had to make the exact shot as the boy before him, or he was a P
I G consecutively until he lost. I've been thinking
about the sorrow of men, and how it's different from the sorrow
of women, although i don't know how -
-------------------
In The Lit.
When a black loves a woman because he ignores a color and his people don’t catch it,
there’s always somebody else breaking him down, usually white,
and they seem to love to do it together, all together, never alone,
like a defensive secondary, attacking as one,
while others watch and cheer. Their favorite game is lynching.
A black had to merely look at a white girl in order to get strung up,
lost his life. I can’t put into words what I’ve only read and seen in books
about the love of women, and how it’s different from white and black,
though no one every explains how. In the literature, when a black man
loves a white woman, court is in session or crosses get burned
or schools go down in flames, all the way to the ground.
Where there’s interracial love, there’s fire. It happens every time.
"You Are Ruining This Deal For The Rest Of Us"
I have seen a homeless man possessing a five gear bike,
guitar, and bookbag, put away his string and emo tunes
only to pull out a cellular and become ecstatic about
the big news of the day: a popular spot a few blocks away
just opened up. He packed up and moved away from the rest
of us. I told myself, every time I pass a homeless or a thumb
looking for a ride or person trekking for gas, I will pick up the next one.
I will freeze you in my brain and pick up the next one that’s like you,
but I can’t pick you up this time, I’m late for class for work
for hookups. The homeless are tied down to nothing, so I can’t
catch up to them. My life will not be complete until I give some
person a ride. Only then can they stab me steal my debit complete me.
Free Entry 2
"Masculinity"
When I told my best friend of the time
that my mother passed away from breast cancer,
he seized the cream walls of the North Fayette restroom
like a Miltonian Samson, ready to break the center,
though he actually grabbed his temples
and began to cry for his uncle, began to show me how to cry,
Though his uncle isn’t worth more than my mother,
but I appreciated the nod. Boys aren’t supposed to cry
unless they get lost in K-Mart or kicked off the T-Ball team.
Boys aren’t supposed to lose their mothers at age 10,
but I knew I’d make it because my grandfather lost his mother at 9
and Samson, probably 9 at the time,
showed me how to break down masculinity
in times of crisis, thought the crisis never really exists.
-------------------
Improv 1
"In The Movies" by Marie Howe
When a man rapes a woman because he's a soldier and his army's won,
there's always somebody else holding her down, another man,
so the men do it together, or one after the other,
in the way my brothers shot hoops on the driveway with their friends
while we girls watched. Their favorite game was PIG.
A body had to make the exact shot as the boy before him, or he was a P
I G consecutively until he lost. I've been thinking
about the sorrow of men, and how it's different from the sorrow
of women, although i don't know how -
-------------------
In The Lit.
When a black loves a woman because he ignores a color and his people don’t catch it,
there’s always somebody else breaking him down, usually white,
and they seem to love to do it together, all together, never alone,
like a defensive secondary, attacking as one,
while others watch and cheer. Their favorite game is lynching.
A black had to merely look at a white girl in order to get strung up,
lost his life. I can’t put into words what I’ve only read and seen in books
about the love of women, and how it’s different from white and black,
though no one every explains how. In the literature, when a black man
loves a white woman, court is in session or crosses get burned
or schools go down in flames, all the way to the ground.
Where there’s interracial love, there’s fire. It happens every time.
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