B cup
C cup
but D cup, the better.

A nip,
a tuck—
reverse the clock.

For beauty’s the past,
and beauty’s the young.

Thus,
reupholster the fruit of the womb
and iron the sags low.
Recapture the past glow,
for after all,
the future is wherever you don’t exist yet.

Five minute street artists
and insomnia mongers.
****** drunk blondes
and finger snapping phat booties.

Street geniuses
bred by Machiavellian philosophies
cypher dreams over tokes
of marijuana smoke.

Color worshipping narcotic traffickers,  
and bread winners
parole corners
sporting fitted caps and twisting fingers.

Senile war veterans
beg for change in cardboard boxes
from the American dreams
they afforded.

Hard workers with every ethnicity
molded into each pore of their face,
rub shoulders with tourists at traffic stops
barely escaping tires crushing their feet.

Sartorial geniuses with no pants
switch hips in knock-off stellos heels,
selling the origin of the world on avenues
next to Arab Halal food.

Cooperate ties and blue collars chafe ***** on subways.
nodding in and out of Daily News articles  
while oxygen blessed by asparagus ****
pump through their noses.

Summa *** laude number runners dictate economies
From sky-crapper offices,
And powered rain swallows their concrete each winter,
With no apologies.

I cradle her in my arms,
Rocking her gently back and forth-
Her tiny hand griping my finger,
Wrapping it around like a pole-

Innocence is the name of such sight,
Heaven on earth is the proper name
For such a beautiful wonder and gift.
But the world is too vile, so it won’t remain the same;

The greatest murderers and villains
Once held this innocence and heaven
In the depths of their soul at birth,
But reality is the only air we know to breathe

Which hardly brings any comfort
But all man for himself
And all lives in chaos without a proper cause,
midst this filth, heaven disappears from earth.

So I cherish this moment and sight
for I am blessed to witness a glimpse
of heaven on this earth before it vanishes
by the air of reality we all are forced to breathe.

I had a scary dream once
But it’s a dream that makes sense now.
In that dream,
The government set up a “program”
Where when you reached the age of 50 you were “terminated”-
In that dream, I was trying to hide my “loved” ones
As the government soldiers came to get them.

Every day after school, I go to Barnes&Nobles; to study
And read up on books I can’t afford to buy. And every day around
4:15 PM, these two old retired couple come in to read
And eat. The same routine every time; the wife points out where
They’re gonna sit (9 times out of 10 it’s the same table as yesterday).
The husband then goes to order their small size drinks and two cookies.
When he comes back, he grabs a stack of magazines and they just flip em’-
Sit there with a dull look on their faces and read for hours.
Amazed, I ask myself silently each time when I see them,
“so this is what life amounts to?”

I now see the government’s point.

Sound the horn of the Maroon,
My people have lost their voices,
Bring Jesus back to walk on water,
The bricks crushed my people’s legs.

Get a cup of water from River Babylon,
The dirt is biting my people’s faces,
Let Mohammed ascend to Heaven once more,
It’s dark, my people need His blessings.

Tell Ceres to come plant a seed,
My people are starving, no food to eat,
Tell *Tlaloc to please shake the skies,
Rain drops, my people are thirsty.
Go tell this to the world, send them our cries-
The Earth has turned on their sister, little Haiti.

Ceres-goddess of agriculture
*Tlaloc- Aztec rain god

When a sight of dying babies
Becomes peace, a haven of tranquility,
When you only listen to the priest
No longer for the truth, but for lies

When a mother’s duty becomes to ****
No longer to give life,
When children no longer grow old
But the old grow to children

When life is not seen as learning
Rather His punishment for the unrighteous,
When graves are harvested as birth
And being born becomes the new death

When killers are praised as heroes
For sending men to rest, to peace,
When those who save lives
Become the greatest fugitives and enemies

When your unconscious becomes reality
And reality becomes that which is hidden;
Then you’ve arrived at the land of the gods
For the opposite of this Earth exists.

For every one thing is
In respects to its Antithesis.