I won't submit to sleep. I want it to overtake me. I want it to make me powerless. I want sleep to assail me, in the dark, to pin me, to rock me. I don't surrender. I wait for it to take me. But sleep, it seems, is powerless.

I understand, in these moments, why people don't like me. I am impetuous, demanding answers of the Universe and her inhabitants. I don't relent. I only tug at the coat sleeve. Maybe in these hours, I rehearse the things I feel I shouldn't say. Maybe my body won't let me sleep until I get it just right. Maybe my body hasn't caught on; I'll never let it say those things. And I've got to sleep sometime. Someone's got to cave. Who will it be? Me? or me?

My clock says 7:02AM. The sun has fully risen. There is a dull pulling behind my eyes, the polite knocking of slumber. Why won't he come in and take me by force? What is he afraid of?

a freewrite

this is for the sleepwalkers
we who wander the wet streets
chewing our tongues like sand
throats warbling at a half decapitated moon

our nails are scythes reaping
beergrain flesh and our teeth
are drunk with gnashing
we spend the night smashing
streetlights with our poems
that stopped begging to be heard
years ago

we won't ask to be fed
but we're hungry, stumbling
curbside and ragged and prideful
we howl in the ears of vacant
lovers who roll the silk of worms
between fingers before plugging
and we don't blame them
for the silence is unbearable

we break our knuckles
on our sternums drumming
out a war song and pray
tears are all the camouflage
we need

and a poem from me:

sarah hunting

you crush snow
like the bones of children
under your brick boot
and ask bristol to pass
the chapstick
to keep your smile from bleeding
careful not to chip
your nails on the trigger

the sun hangs on the tundra
an oil spill
smearing the horizon
red-throated loons are buckshot
against the orange of a liquid sky

you are hunting sarah
you are beautiful
your hair is wound into a bun
glinting like the pelt of a young seal

you are not scared yet
not yet searching bathroom
vanities for the right wink
jewelry boxes for the right pearls
clawing through your delicates
for the most accurate hosiery

track answered the phone
when they called sarah
scribbled the message on the end
table's stationary and went back
to chugging milk from the carton
wondering how many kills
mom had made on the day
she was asked to lead a nation

you kneel on the frost
to aim sarah
your inuit guide grimaces
against the wind
as you lift your rifle
to the flank of a caribou bull
letting your bullets peal
the chill air like nervous laughter
will you make willow a muff
of reindeer fur sarah?
will you fashion of antlers
a mobile for trig?

your hunting boots
have an aggressive tread sarah
they grip the earth as if to own it
you've got your balance
not yet climbing in slick black pumps
whose sharp heels drill ice
with every step

I ache
to be held
by someone
I want to hold me

This summer I worked closely with novelist Isaac Perry (www.isaacperry.com) on a soundtrack to his newly released book All Falls Down (www.allfallsdown.com).

Check out the new music on the page:

"Eva and the Supastar" - 16 year old Eva grows up too fast when she gets
involved with megapopular R & B singer John Forrest

"Kayla Walks In" - Kayla Forrest, stunning and seductive wife of R&B singer John
Forrest, enters her penthouse suite for her first meeting with protagonist Ellison Parker

"That Night" - with adrenaline and passions running high, Kayla and Ellison find
themselves tangled in a dark and dangerous game

To hear more and find out how you can READ THE BOOK check out www.isaacperry.com, www.allfallsdown.com, and look for Isaac on Facebook

Don't forget to tune in to the Flabby Hoffman show on Fearless Radio tonight at 7pm to a live performance by eleven - Kristiana Colón, Deja K Taylor, and Kristen "kris de la rash" Beauford.

Click the link below or go to www.fearlessradio.com
http://www.fearlessradio.com/cms/index.php/Flabby-Hoffman/

Call in with comments, questions, random thoughts at
312-224-8273
or
chat with us live on AIM and Yahoo: fearlessradio00 or MSN: fearlessradio.

Support your favorite lyrictastic, rhymalicious trio. Chi-town! Worldwide!!

Sunday, Jun 15th, 2008 -- You don't like to take "no" for an answer when you want to do something, even if smart friends are against your current plan. You might pretend that you have real ram's horns to protect your vulnerability as you charge ahead. Reconsider your next move before you tire of running into the same wall again and again.

This time
I'm going to keep it to myself
This time
I'm going to keep me
all to myself
--Bjork

instructions on how
to make him ugly

               As empty vessels make the greatest sound -- Plato

see him peacock
see gilt feathers
iridescent whither

smell breath hollow
stench of empty
circumlocution

tongue the bitter lies
from corners of closed mouth
taste the sutures

hear echo dissonant
lift from rib to rib
ricochet through cage

cut your loving thumb
on armor's ragged seams
too many times to scab

butterfly bloody ventricles
slather wounds with salt
kiss wasp sting lips

bird crush in larynx
smear brow reverent
say love again

just
open your eyes

     a draft. a blueprint. a spiritual reconstruction in progress.

Though I am 62 inches tall, my pedigree is seven feet
I heavily invest in me, the revenue is energy
Envelop the eleven beams of light from luminescent dreams.....
Developing my self-esteem....
                               ....and growing exponentially,
so step to me respectfully and show what your intentions be,
dispose of the pretenses and expose your Self, or let me be
My seconds are so precious, your Rolex is not impressing me:
Severing Giappetto's strings
                                         Lessons etched on melon seeds
Resembling the restless queens,
                                          jesters left on bended knees
Never less than heavenly,
                                          sex is like telepathy
We jet from the Equator to Australia to the Western Keys
Intensity of seven seas dissected by a desert breeze
The lexicon I'm flexing on, descendant of Rosetta ink
Stepping in stilettos or barefoot inside the temple Sphinx
Correct your prepositions and your diction when you attempt to speak

                                                                            .....m'f*cka