the significant nothingness of a 9 to 5

i stare glaringly at the left top corner
of the mac until my eyes fill with salt from
some dark place and the pixels become faulty
remnants of a clear graphic

to quit would be to succomb to
11 pm binges on steel reserve malt liquor
to awaken 2 pm with the world
trying to break out of my forehead

the synapse flickers, sparks in response
to a thought i have of lighting up in the office
my instincts think everything is a good idea
if i followed them more often

i would not be at the desk nodding off
to the hum of central air, the dull
light, pink walls, empty bulletin boards
i envision an escape through the open door

i never closed when i arrived here,
nowhere yet to be seen and it is clear
if you saw me today, you'd see straight through
this dullness has a way of hollowing true

wedding day.

May 13, 2006

we wore ivory and peridot

the occasion occurred in raleigh, north carolina

groom: randy baker, first cousin

bride: corranda townsend

me: groomsman

it was wonderful being able to support my cousin on the special day. i enjoyed getting away from the city for a few days and hanging out with family. it's amazing how one's outlook on life can change when the scenery is shifted. i honestly did not want to come back, at least stay down there or go somewhere else for a week or two. i need an extended vacation. i would settle for a new job.

all in all, i'm very glad i went and i wish randy and corranda the best.

okayplayer moment. 10.05.06

it is rather ridiculous how amusing this website has become for me since venturing outside the freestyle board (where i post poetry) and fully embracing my General Discussion (GD) homies. here's today's funny. posters' handles shall remain anonymous. i think this may become another spin-off blog.


Thread title: Has anyone perfected the art of TF'n?

Body:
(for those that don't know, TF'n is tittyfuckin...the last frontier)

I'm thinking I should invent a seat or some shit, because ladies, do you all mind to have some nigga's prickly, hairy balls draggin' all up and down your sternum while we're pumpin' aways at your sweet oily ravine of love-meat? Or do you just take that as a hazard with the job?

And what about that happy ass nigga who you both know about to launch off that nuclear and get slick and pull it from between your monsters and cold starts jacking that jount only to give you the Peter North special? You all get mad with that too or you cool with that?

Or are you one of them ladies that just let it pool all around your sah-phuh-gus or however that's spelt?

Holla @ me...we need the truth.

Ladies, describe how you hold em up so you can hold him down....we need vivid, slooow examples.

Like do you kneel and drool on it for lube? I mean...the streets needs this.
--


i almost laughed out loud when i read "the streets need this"
i love okp and hate okp but i always return to love. so many intellectual, creative, and motivated brothers and sisters on there; as well as the assholes, freaks, brownosers, etc. a wonderful way to pass the boring day in the office.

happy hour

the drinking begins at 6 pm
in the common share,
kickballers huddled in pre-game
drunkenness, laughing over
pilsners and guiness

staring at me in 10 second intervals

wondering why i'm alone--
it's how i enjoy drinking/
the alcoholic way/
a camel light burning slowly
away the day's expectations
and bringing on the night
smoke glowing gold in the setting
sun disappearing behind Staccato

i command the jukebox/
7 songs late 90s hiphop
or late 80s conscious rap
i settle for early 21st century
britpop and the white folks
are surprised or intrigued or
just waiting for my song to end
so they can play early 80s pop
late 60s rock or whatever their
friend says spilling Blue Moon
over the edge of the bar

the hours here roll over
like anytime minutes/
women strut in as if this is LOVE
or H20 and who really gives a shit/
all the men do (i am the self-proclaimed
exception)
i dont even see the girls parading
down the narrow walkway with martinis
and chiraz

attention is cheaper than the beer specials

lust is a marvin gaye song away

in a bar, everyone's hip, until they stop drinking

if you stumble out of the bar, you've had too much

i never stumble

i always have too much