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| Guerin |
...allows even the most ignorant to transform their opinions magically into god-like pronouncements on the nature of things"-Kellogg and Bourland
Tonight I read the Spider Surah (29) before bed. My head stirred with noise. I imagined a spider weaving a nest within my skull. I considered this round orb dense and increasing in mass. Yet the mass assumed the form of contraction. A weight of pressure measured in units of implosive constriction.
On the night stand next to me sits a mason jar. In this mason jar resides a black widow. I share my sleep with her. Her coal black silhouette poised like a frozen acrobat upon invisible line. Patient and gentle with her soft rigidity, ready for fluid motion through her sylph limbs; eight en pointe.
I wake and look to see if she still lies beside me. A deadly lover. An irresponsible dreamer. Infatuation that stirs the venom of Eros. The lascivious digestive juices. To be clear: I do not fuck spiders. I just write them love letters.
An ode to a Ghetto Bitch
Your bulbous black booty all up on the table.
Legs that hold that shit down
Girl, yo grill be Bizaat!
Be on that case like a bondsman
You got me out on bail yo(sp)
Got me in dat pocket
With that hourglass
straight up on dat ass
I figure, we can kick it some time
you killin it supuh fly
spinnin str8 h8
them kids on reduced rate
them kids aint mine
but we get you some wic
I call you on that line
gimme them numbuhs
fuck them suckuhs
this mothfuckuh droppin
like a jumpuh
vicious on that tonic
chillin like yo granny smokin all that chronic
this aint no game
gimme sum of dat pain
you know my name
big dawg mickey d pushin
on that h town fang fame
I digress. 
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