Old man saddles
up to the bar
says I need a
liquid transfusion
of your best cold

It’s the image
of her eyes
filled up to despise
all the stupid
little things I’ve

I’m haunted by
the sounds of
her sobs in the
dark when she
thinks I’m still

I stare at the
ceiling and the
cracks in the wall
and I wonder how
we ever even
ended up like this

I can remember
a time when
your eyes shone
bright in the
sunlight on the
arms of the
Park St bridge

You whispered in
my ears, sweet
nothings and that
was fine, cause
i could smell your
perfume and feel
you chest against
mine and your
warm slender
fingers tied up
between strokes
of your hair

Now I sit in
this bar after
midnight choking
on the crusts
of your despair
sipping MGD and
getting high on
Saul Williams

And I long for
the time when
you’d be there
beside me feeding
me lines from
his book

I’m a low flying
crook who
swooped down on
your heart, carried
it to heights
then smashed it
on the rocks

And I watched
your broken dreams
crumple and get
mixed up in the
sand and washed
away in the sea

floating in the
night like a
piece of dead
wood drifting
to be washed
up on the banks
of Babylon

a city in strife
like your broken
heart mourning
lost in oblivion

Mthrfckrs better realize, now is the time to self-actualize.Saul Williams, American Poet

Every now and then, I find myself slipping back into the abyss, that place where other people insist on defining me, telling me who I am and who I SHOULD be, according to the standards they mete. And then my old friends, doubt and confusion, take the opportunity to get back inside my head and start causing all sorts of craziness like two drunks at a wedding party. And then as usual, I reach a point where I say, enough is enough, get the fuck out!

I’m at that point today! Enough is enough, I say!

As Maslow said, “A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. This is the need we may call self-actualization…it refers to man’s desire for fulfillment, namely the tendency for him to become actually in what he is potentially: to become everything that one is capable of becoming…”

peace, clay

When I need a goodnight’s sleep
I mix myself a cocktail
Of chemicals

There’s a couple of ways
To make the mix
Either solo or in pairs

But by far
The sweeter brew
Is that made by two

All you need is a little
Up and down motion
A pinch of friction
And a dash of emotion

Add some heat
A bit of sweat
And some commotion

And in a minute or two
You’ll get an explosion
The out fall of which
Is a sweet mix of:

Vas opressin
Nitric oxide
And prolactin

Next to heaven divine
All of these chemicals combine
To produce a goodnight’s sleep

Warning: the effects have only
Been proven to work on men
Much to her chagrin