June 1, 2016


Last night I got high

with some friends 

in Harlem

Friends I have known for years


They asked about the police reports

Said I could send a Facebook message



I recoiled

in sharing details of this 



I kept saying-

It’s just life


And I did not want to share

Not really

but I did


I am. 


She said she remembered me

Before she really knew me




I was running on the treadmill

to a picture of Nicole Richie


The image of a



Nicole Richie 

on the beach with her teeny teal bikini barely clinging to her tiny frame

lingered in my memory.  


She said

I was a bad ass. 


I looked at the floor

At my tired Supra sneakers

I looked at their faces


That was- 

A moment. 

I said

That was sad

I said. 


More details.


We feel the need to be relevant




To leave our imprint

To understand our mortality 


To be 28 


To contribute

To the good of something

To be noticed

For doing something good


An unquenched thirst to create. 


Hashtag Thirsty. 


And it is just lyfe.


I took a selfie today

Put it on the gram

Through some hashtags on it

Sum h’ tagzzz 


Basic. Gay. Millennial. Model. Actor. StandIn.

Or something. 


I started a blog today 

And this is my first post


A poem a day

A blog a day

Relevance for a day


Feelz for a day


I sat in a chair on a sound stage while multiple cameras pointed at me.

They didn't capture my image,

but I got paid for it. 


Got to contribute

in some obscure way

to a story being told. 


And then my selfie got thirteen likes. 

And I get to climb rocks

and kiss a boy tonight.










June 6, 2016. 

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