Poem for the polyglots

There is a necklace, a sentence in a poorly known language
misshapen pearls, glue-encrusted macaroni. Froot Loops.

My neck is heavy with attempts at communication, my wrists
are tired of force-feeding myself meaning

De-constructing the tower of Babel is exhausting,
but always something

worth doing.


when my cure looks to you
like poison
you watch me die daily.

There is a mirror you ask my future of.
I don’t want to know what has been said in that
pale room, dust in cheeks, held and aged like fine wine…

your tongue is not so sharp,
I think it couldn’t cut glass

not even if I passed out in your kitchen.
Not even if I threw away your rotting food

and you had to fish it from the dirt.



oh. um… my fiance got his visa petition approved… just needs to do final background checks etc, then we prep for his interview.  I got the letter two months earlier than expected,  was freaking out as I carried the envelope upstairs… trying to open it but my hands were full… then made weird happy noises and called him but he couldn’t understand what I was saying because the weird noises kinda just continued.. 🙂 that was a good day.


flinching more and more lately,
tension becomes the natural state of

Schrodinger’s flight or fight response (that
cat just never exits my
brain matter, such a palate for hard
uncertainty, fetal-position coiled, the spring
of false refuge.)

I want my face laid bare to the sun.
to be that unafraid, open to teeth as well as

The muscles in my back hold expectations,
unprocessed and jagged.  I want to let go.

I don’t know how.


Things I learned so far from Lies My Teacher Told Me.  (2nd edition)

  1.  Everyone hated Helen Keller when she became a socialist.
  2. Race Relations were set back when Woodrow Wilson became president because he was a white supremacist and asshole.
  3.  America is an overbearing jerk of a nation.  We topple other nations’ democracies.  We rig elections.  Control. Control. Control.  We want to control everyone.
  4. Inequality has gotten progressively worse.
  5. High school students are not taught about social class systems.
  6. Most history textbooks are the equivalent of sticking your fingers in your ears and going “LALALALA AMERICA IS THE BEST AND ALWAYS RIGHT AND MORAL”.

I want to post a Zouk video from Vegas but my internet is too slow at this time.  Maybe I’ll get ambitious and get a flashdrive and bring it to work and blah blah b labhalkgsj.


Thinking about hero and villainhood… specifically when the two states exist within the same person. Alexander Graham Bell. Invented the telephone, nuh? HERO. Just kidding, he’s a pretty bad figure in Deaf culture… tried to eradicate the use of Sign Language because he wanted to stop Deaf people from marrying each other.

Anyways I’m on the first couple of pages of Lies my Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong.

Oooffff I’m super excited to read this book. stay tuned for possible screenshots I guesssssssss.

Song for you.  I was at Afro-Latin Vegas last weekend.. I do have zouk videos if anyone wants them (?) bruh I know no one reads or comments, I’ll just keep pretending hah


THIS SONG.  Danced so much to this.

Sanctuary Cities.

Data and Statistics forever and forever, 100 years, Data and Statistics’ things! Me and Data and Statistics running around and… Data and Statistics time! All day long, forever… all- a hundred days! Data and Statistics forever a hundred times! Over and over, dataandstatisticsadventures.com. Www.dataandstatistics.com. Www.dataandstatisticsadventures. All 100 years. Every minute, dataandstatistics.com. [closing garage door inside] Www.100timesdataandstatistics.com.



Bastardized from :  wikiquote.org

To be paired gracefully with:  This Fine Wine.


Hmm. Life.

Be courageous enough to invite dissenting opinions into the conversation.

I can’t really hate conservatives, because I was born into that noise, a regular gays-are-bad, everyone-goes-to-hell-but-us  evANGELICAL BELIEVER.

I would still be that. I could have easily never left that.

I don’t know if I could call myself alive before my mental breakdown.   My whole life is divided into before after and during that.    Something OPENED.   Imagine you live your whole life in a well, and the bucket just draws you up and out one day. Sky full of stars.

Maybe I can’t see the stars anymore but the memory is so vivid.

My best friend used to ask me (Before), so are you just going to wave goodbye while I go to Hell and you go Heaven?

When I was crazy, everything crystallized.  I don’t believe in a Hell like that.    Like I said, utopia, we build it here, now.
Used to be very bitter about my manic breakdown.  Weird to be so thankful for something that I used to assume would always be the worst thing about my life.

I told my old roommate, some people have to take drugs to feel the way I felt.  My brain just did that to me for free.



Love the earth and sun and the animals,
Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks,
Stand up for the stupid and crazy,
Devote your income and labor to others,
Hate tyrants, argue not concerning God,
Have patience and indulgence toward the people.

Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown,
or to any man or number of men,
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons,
And with the young, and with the mothers or families.

Re-examine all you have been told
in school or church or in any book,
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul;
And your very flesh shall be a great poem…

And have the richest fluency, not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
and In every motion and joint of your body.

~ Walt Whitman ~ Preface to Leaves of Grass, 1855 edition

I’m very sad right now.  Crying a lot.  Thinking about Hell on Earth, and efforts to keep people there.