Some will say

That the officers were racist.

Some will say

That he wasn't properly complying with the officers.

Some will say

I am not suprised

And don't have the capacity for sadness.

Some will say

That this is because of the white supremasist post-slavery society we live in.

Some will say

That this is because of improper police training.

Some will say

It's because of the war on drugs.

Some will say it's just one bad seed that did this.

Some will say

Change is needed.

Some will say

Their message not through a speaker phone but through a barrel pointed at blue hoping for red.

Some will say

Their message in the form of a ten second hashtag.

Some will say

Their message via a long rant on how bad this all is.

Some will say

Their message as a talking point to fit their agenda.

Some will say

That nobody cares about the white kid that was unjustly killed at the same time by police officers.

Some will say

Some will say

Some will say

But two black people won't say anything

And five police officers won't say anything

And there is a rally in my city today

A city known for shootings

A city with a cop on every corner

A city with black people in every other shotgun house

A city with guns out the whazoo

A city with alcohol sold like lemonade

A city an hour away from Baton Rouge.

And nothing will be said that is worth anything.

And there will never be a moment of silence

Because anytime there is

There will just be another gunshot ringing somewhere else in this country

And another bombshell going off in somewhere else in a country likely full of sand.

And the news will cover it when it's new

And they won't when Trump retweets something from a white supremacist group

And they won't when Clinton needs someone to lie for her

And they won't when nobody talks about it except when giving cheap prayers of condolences

And talked only in the off time by a movement without a leader or concise message and full of people that are sometimes proudly racist towards white people and view it as justified.

People.

We are people.

Our well being depends on each other.

Our survival depends on helping one other.

Stop speaking in worth of specks.

And stop fucking killing each other,

because bullets will just keep ricocheting

and there will be nothing left to say in the end.

-J.W.

-Hey bro.

-Sup.

-You down to hang out sometime tonight?

-Nah. Not really feeling like doing anything tonight.

-What about tomorrow?

-Eh. Maybe. Depends on how I'm feeling.

-I mean I can just like come over and we can just hang or something...

-Yeah yeah. That'd be chill man. Maybe not tonight but like... soon.

-How are you and Sarah doing?

-We stopped talking a while ago.

-Why?

-Eh. Not much communication between us. She kinda just bailed too much for me to handle. 

-Damn. That sucks. Any good movies out right now?

-Nah. Nothing worth the money is out. 

-Yeah. The summer looks like it'll have some good stuff. 

-Absolutely. Hey man, what are you listening to these days?

-I've mostly just been listening to indie stuff. I've gotten into a band called Death Grips recently. You should give em a listen. 

-Oh cool cool. I will. What do they do?

-They make like experimental industrial hip-hop

-Oh shit. Fuck. That sounds cool man. 

- It is it is.

-Ok man. Well like I've gotta go. Good talking with ya. We'll meet up soon.

-Sounds good bud. Later.  

You were told this was a poem 

When actually all along 

This has secretly been 

Just that

a mind bending plot-twist

A

B

C

D

E

Is it C?

No no.

We've had two of those already.

Is it E?

No no.

None of the above is never used.

Is it D?

I mean does the none of the above count within it?

Because E is a all of the above.

Wait no.

E is below D.

Ok. Ok.

Fucking tick in the clock. 

Winding down 

Unyo-yoing my youth away

Death death death

Via 

Stress stress stress

Future ahead

Decided by the number I get

Percentages needed

For something in History

Future future

Sneaking behind me

Asking for a pencil 

Then I hand it to it

And it Ends up being my ribling 

Tricked again 

Everyday 

Every hour

I've learnt nothing

Yet it lies and says I am smart

I am ready for Future

Full aware I am not

It plans to kill me 

Once I escape

And think safety 

Imagine if you will,

a rainmaker pouring with hard ended corn 

as the pitter patter of gravel stuffed shoelings 

race on tiled slick school hallways 

with janitor mop dunking in and out of grungley water  

and the poets of 2 by fours 

reading with a trachea sideways 

sticking            

               out

                       their

                                         ears

of how cannonballs crashing on pacific thick bloodbags 

reminds the soul of the cliche blah blah blah blah 

yadda yada mutter mutter blop blop beboop does not compute.

And once you're done imagining all that 

realize that my voice is whatever voice you give me 

inside that pretty little noggin you've got

you sultry little satanic cheeked palebodied smirk

The night Josh Tillman came to our apt.

2 hookers and an 8 ball

never wanted to dance.

when the morning glories wake up in the morning

i

gotta get up.

when you're smiling (the whole world smiles with you)

I break mirrors with my face in the United States 

Like a rolling stone

Like you ain't even gone

You turn water into wine for the kegger,

You walk on water with some levitation type shit, 

You can feed everyone with some loaves and fish, 

You banged your own mother and 

Cucked your own stepdad,

You killed yourself to sell your own book,

You flew up into the sky after you died

Straight up David Blain shit right there. 

You love us all

You chill

You cool

You Jesus

There was panchos on her bed.

There was a comic strip by Marisa Paternoster on the fridge.

There was so many damn glass dildos in her sex drawer.

There was hairy legs wrapped by her jeans.

There was some strawberries in her fridge.

There was lube on my fingers.

There was my fist in her cunt.

There was Hunter S. Thompson biography books on her bookshelf.

There was restraints tying my limbs to the corners of the bed.

There was convulsions from her nails scraping me.

There was my gasmask forgotten in my car.

There was a ladder in her kitchen that could get her up into her hidey hole which was above her bathroom.

There was an open window with just some light drapes separating the heated room from the chilled Mardi Gras streetlight sepia.

There was an awkward moment at the beginning where she was choking me lightly and she hit a spot that made me cough so I had to get water.

There was leg rubbing on both our parts.

There was her glasses that had been busted from when we wrestled one another.

There was a guy at the cafe we first met at that kept asking if we had any cigarettes.

There was a teaching session of how I had to turn my fist into her left side as I fisted her that way the knuckles could get through.

There was jubilation after I helped her in figuring out how she could fist herself.

There was something about her face that made it seem like it was somebody different every time I looked at it.

There was a realization that I could be slightly OCD when I had cleaned off her body of some random debris for the fifth time.

There was a solid silence at one point as we sat on the couch fully clothed, not knowing if who should engage first.

Now I'm in bed, with a watercolor drawing of someone on the ground that accidentally ended up looking like another lady I was once with.

Now I'm in my bed that's missing it's covers.

Now I'm in a bed with a spine that is soar from doing the watercolor.

Now I'm writing and breaking the fourth wall.

Now I'm looking af the wall and not lkkkkng sh the letters and just thorns.

Now I'm looking at the keyboard again because typing while not looking at it clearly doesn't work all that well.

Now I'm gonna stop.