i’m listening to gangster poetry and avoiding the vultures
i see them constantly circling outside my open window
i am a whirling dervish, a neo-kali, a cocksucking angel
now i’m gaining new insights and trying not to transgress
there is a man dressed all in black who is telling me that
all i need to remember is to do the opposite of what i have been
and the road won’t seem so long, the sunlight not as harsh
i’m finding wayward heroines amongst jetlagged daughters
angel-lipped and hooker-hipped, we break down barriers and tear down walls
as i try to make myself smaller, less inconvenient, more docile
i want you to hear my truth and not hold it against me
there will never be enough words
