Don't call us dead: poems

Summer, somewhere

Dear white America

Dinosaurs in the hood

It won't be a bullet

Last summer of innocence

A note on Vaseline

A note on the phone app that tells me how far I am from other men's mouths

& even the black guy's profile reads "sorry, no black guys"

O nigga O

...nigga

At the down-low house party

Bare

Seroconversion

Fear of needles

Recklessly

Elegy with pixels & cum

Litany with blood all over

It began right here

Crown

Blood hangover

1 in 2

Every day is a funeral & a miracle

Not an elegy

A note on the body

You're dead, America

Strange dowry

Tonight, in Oakland

Little prayer

Dream where every black person is standing by the ocean

Notes.