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Jay Kay Jun 2016
...
I.
I just.
I don't know.
I don't know why...
I don't know why...
I don't know why things aren't better.
I don't know what makes a person........
I don't know what makes a person pick up a....
And hurt a....
And **** a...
I just...
I don't know.
I'm sorry.
I just...
I don't know.
Jay Kay Jun 2018
If I were an inanimate object....

I’d probably be a ****** ******.

Mostly because it’s funny.

But also because ew.
Jay Kay Dec 2016
A Woman brought her Baby to a Kink Store Yesterday.
She filled her Stroller to the Brim,
And then She Rolled Away.
Spotted on 13th Street.
Jay Kay Aug 2016
The days turn into sand
The night is a deadly rodent and the feathers of our young are thrown about in a reckless, god-fearing, nature.
Cast aside like a stove in heat, teenage hormones running to catch up to the few that are too far ahead.
The bills flying through the air, attached to the parrots they were born to.
Why live where questions are the answers to the questionable comments and unheard statements.
I think I was, like, 15 when I wrote this. Tweaked a bit, for maturity purposes.
Jay Kay Sep 2018
I know.
I should be excited
To open this play
Tomorrow.
But I still can’t help
But feel like an outsider
And I just kind of want to sit home.
Jay Kay Jun 2016
I got them broken down, whiskey blood, drank too much ****** beer and didn't sleep enough, tumbleweave, cigarette ****, city wide blues.
Jay Kay Sep 2018
I don’t have time
For this young man’s disease
They told me it was Type II, at first.
“The good one.”
The “one for fat people.”
Medical jargon.

Not even three months later.
“Your body is tearing itself apart.”

Type 1.
A1c.
Glucose monitor.
Metformin.
Spironolactone.
Crying.
Writing down numbers.
Going to doctors.
And a ***** on the finger
Two times a day.

And if that ***** is a little high, a little low, and not juuuuust right,
I take a pill.
And I turn a dial.
And I stick a needle in the part of my body I never want to pay attention to:
The fatty part.
And my mom calls me worried every day.


Counting carbs instead of calories
And trying to wake up early to do a half hour of yoga before life keeps spinning and spinning.
Trying to “meal prep.”
I rarely succeed.

I don’t usually tell the truth….
I’m doing better.
But Sometimes I forget on purpose.
Because it’s annoying.
And I’m tired.
And then I’m shaking
And then I’m hungry
And then I eat too much
And then I feel like ****
And then I have to walk
And then I run out of time
And then
And then
And then
And then
And if I could go back
And do it again
I’d probably eat all those fries

I’d like to tell future me that their success was a long time coming.

I’d like to tell past me to chill the **** out for a moment.

I’d like to tell now me that this wasn’t my fault.
Even if I don’t know if I believe that.
Written for a piece about what is below us and what we keep hidden for the 2018 Philly Fringe Festival.
Jay Kay May 2016
Kiss me before Midnight, or I'm gone for good.
My glass slipper broke under my fist, you see,
and my mother won't glue it together.
My pumpkin just died,
and I'm sick of watching my Prince Charming go off into the back room with another girl.
It tickles when mice run under my dress, and
Oh.
Last call?
Good.
Great.
I'm getting sorta tired of hiding in this bathroom stall.
Night and day it's Cinderelly.
A found poem from many moons ago.
Jay Kay Dec 2017
7 people sitting in a room
6 notes shared between them
5 blustering, bullying, burrowing, bellows below
4 giggles in a foreign place
3 minutes of silence
2 seconds to get ou.....
1 phone call to your loved ones.
Bang.
Boom.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

7 people sitting in a room
7 witches in a brew
7 friends?
7 foes?
7 days to fill the holes
7 monkeys jumping on the bed
7 monkeys fell on their heads

We.
Us.
Out.
Now.
Boom.
Another stream of consciousness from a devising workshop about witches. Some parts are more successful than others.
Jay Kay Jan 2018
Like a ******* Blink-182 song:
I miss you, miss you.
Jay Kay Jun 2016
And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and the blood and the black and the birds and the gags and the stew and the stewing and the hate and the cries and the wood and the prince and the tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and today.
Curtain
Jay Kay Jan 2017
"Life is Hard
And So am I"
He sang.
I listened.
And I laughed.
And a tear fell into my lap.
Because the world is soft
And round
And wet
And sad
And I'm too sensitive
For these difficult times.
Jay Kay Aug 2016
It smells like cheap beer and stale cigarettes.
A firehall from the early 90's.
There are disco ***** and broken beer taps.
Nobody dances.
Jay Kay May 2016
I walked up broad street
With my skirt tucked into my pants
And a kind stranger told me about it
And now I can't stop checking my ****.
Jay Kay Dec 2017
It’s true that I get all wrapped up in myself
And I can’t help but feel all unwound
But give me a chance
And I’ll break out a dance
And worm my way into your heart.
But be careful when I am in there.
It’s true that I’ll do it again.
And then when you fall,
I’ll leap over a wall
And pretend that we never had danced.
I woke up with this stuck in my head and haven't been able to shake it. So here it is. What an allegory. For what? I dunno.
Jay Kay Jun 2016
There is a woman,
Covered entirely in fur,
Staring at me as I skip on by.
She's been there for, 10, 20, 40 years,
Watching.
Watching her corner parks turn into gas stations
And watching me walk.
And sometimes I stop.
And I stare.
And it takes everything in my body not to throw a brick through the window and take her for my wall.
And I wonder
How on earth is she still there
Beautiful
Poised
With nothing but dust covering her smile.
Because I can't be the first person to have wanted her like that.
I look.
Like a lost museum patron.
And then I keep walking.
Because most things
And all people
Are meant to stay beautiful.
And untouched.
Unless they ask you.
Or you own it.
Jay Kay Jan 25
It’s true that I get all wrapped up in myself
And I can’t help but feel all unwound
But give me a chance
And I’ll break out a dance
And worm my way into your heart.
But be careful when I am in there.
It’s true that I’ll do it again.
And then when you fall,
I’ll leap over a wall
And pretend that we never had danced.
An old one.
Jay Kay Jun 2017
Big fat raindrops feed the flower design on my jacket.
And while I love these summer rains
(With their temperature shifts and chances for quiet contemplation)
I really wish I brought an umbrella with me
When I decided to walk out the door this morning.
Because now I look like a cat
Who wants to **** the owner
Who tried to give that cat a bath.
Jay Kay Dec 2017
Tick.... tick... tick...
Hot... cold... what?
How am I both?
Where am I?
What am I doing?
Why am I still talking?
How am I still talking?
Huh.
.....................
This isn't so bad.
..........................
Huh.
.......Who...
......Are...
.­.....Is...
........................................
Huh.
A quick one during a devising workshop for a piece about witches. Not really inspired by anything except my failing immune system. Yay!
Jay Kay Jan 2018
I’m feeling unwell
My stomach.
My heart.
My eyes.
And my nose.
I made a mistake.
And I made up a story.
And I made up a world.
And I hurt my best friend.
And now I don’t know what to do.
Jay Kay Jan 2018
The table is set for two, but nobody is here.
Empty plates and glasses half filled with orange juice,
A napkin,
Littered on the hardwood floor,
Beckoning you to the kitchen.
That corner is treacherous
You climb over the fridge that’s been knocked in your way
And there’s a bird.
Bleeding from its eye
Covered in *****.
A bottle of tums half chewed in the sink.

That **** cat.
Jay Kay Aug 2018
Slowly and sweetly, the woodpecker sighs
And a drip drip dripping comes from the blues in your eyes
The whisk whisk whisking of a whiskey night out
Faint honeysuckle kisses, gone 20 miles south
"I'll save you" she whispers, as sweet as can be.
And flies away.




Next time.
Jay Kay Apr 2022
I had forgotten
The **** steam from a sewer grate
Nature’s heat lamp
And the regulars you see
When you’re walking the streets
And I hope they can find a clean mattress.
City life.
Jay Kay Dec 2016
There is a building
with two people's chalk silhouettes painted
High up
Super high up
on the front.
Did they jump?
Or were they traced on the ground and the house was flipped right side up?
Jay Kay Aug 2016
The Creative Juices are Flowing
And Now My Pants Are Soaked
A family friendly non-rhyming couplet.
Jay Kay Mar 4
Every corner has remnants of you
The ghosts of tape and laughter and tears
Of breakfasts and jeopardy.
And yes.
I know.
One day I’ll be okay.
But for now
It hurts
To watch a decade disappear
As you carry on
Like I never existed.
Zip
Jay Kay Aug 2016
Zip
You know, it's funny how a person can change their style and lose their grace,
They drop their old familiar face and zip a new one back on.

But the zipper is obvious
Nothing but cartoon character on your T.V. set.
Killing children's dreams and wishing upon a star.

All mixed up and upside down, but the puzzle piece was right where you left it. The picture is complete.
I mean.
It looks complete.

The salamander sitting on your windowsill crawls in and out of sight until he sets up camp in your bed and doesn't move for another three years.
Even after you call exterminators, the ******* thing won't die.

You close your eyes to try to run, but your friend has been hiding behind the curtains,
Waiting for your sign so they can escape too.

The puzzle smashes to the floor,
Something rolls under the bed,
The salamander attaches itself to your ear,
A child unzips your costumes and exposes you for the regular human you are.
They scream.

Then everything is black and there's nothing but your breathing in the night.

And you wake up.
Well.
Then you try to wake up.
Then you lay there.

A sharp pin in your side....
Huh.
There's that missing piece.

You wake up.
Circa 2009. I think this is about an ex-boyfriend.

— The End —