judging my society

since sitting in michelle thompson’s english 131 class freshman year and watching her write on the board “you can judge a society by the way it treats its women” – i believed it.

and then i sat on the green line train towards greenbelt (boarded at anacostia) and my belief changed.
my believe became: you can judge a society by the way the women treat themselves.
those women who board the train loudly, popping their gum – talking about their probation officers.
those women who dream of shaking their ass in front of a camera – whether it’s hype williams’ camera of her boyfriend’s.

and it’s 2:48am & i stopped giving a shit about the women that don’t give a shit about themselves.
so i move on…


tonight – sometime – i hit the road for florida.
i got the uniqlo flat front trousers and the skinny jeans in the bag
i got the shades sitting out on the counter
& i got the music on the ipod.

what happens in florida will not stay in florida.
it will happen again & again
perhaps in new york for new years & the bahamas or jamaica or aruba for one of those ‘just because’ holidays.
it will happen again and again.


i got the soft honey wheat bread staring at me from the counter
i got dexter (season 4 episode 4) watching me blog
and i got a messenger window open – keeping myself entertain by making youknowwho happy.
this is what i do.

what am i going to eat.
i remember those days when there were no options.
it was me sitting in a house with nothing but a pack of oriental noodles (which i hate and refused to eat, even when starving) and wondering if any of the groupies loved me enough to cook.

and there was always one.
but she wasn’t my groupie. she was @pnoty groupie.
but i was often able to convince her that by cooking for me, she’d please him.
so i ate great.

now, whenever i’m hungry, i think of her.
i wonder what she’s doing RIGHT NOW.

*checking to see if she’s on facebook*


memories are fucked up at 3:06am.

i’m starting to remember the drug dealer that was killed outside my cousin’s house back in ’99.
i remember the girl i brought back to the house when ‘the whore’ broke up me – then had to fake a n*t because she was horrible beneath the sheets.
i remember the rabbit (diamond) we HAD to take care of, then she died in our custody. found stiff in the living room.


i have great memories stored behind my massive forehead – long eye lashes (they love them) – and eyes that hypnotize.


and i will finish this night by leaving her this note:

nothing is more beautiful than you wearing nothing but moonlight and my kisses.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. John Ira says:

    I agree…myself and a few colleages were discussing that issue last night. When a man simply says “hello, how are you?” – he gets attitude…but when/if he says “what’s ma, you have phatty” – he gets a smile, a chuckle and the number. My women, my women you are so much more!

  2. and just to think I came to the same realization hours ago. u right about them hoes sir. they must simply be ignorant to the game. of life that is.

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