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