I often write when I am inside a lounge or small club with tables. The atmosphere is so charged that it becomes inspiring. This is what I came up with on Friday night at The Meeting Place here in DC.
The Meeting Place
Attached to many
Too many to count
So many strokes that
His tip lost count
A state of less than
Possibility of love
No deliverance in sight
Citing authorship of promise keepers
Remembrance of lustful emptiness
Joined by lies
accompanied with afternoon brunch
Menu: Doubles and Salt-Fish
The sweet, pungent smell of meaningless sex
Meaning less than salvation or
Greater than pleasure
Meanwhile, life is still in motion
While his brain cells soak in a glass of
splashed with cranberry
It's after 10:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night and I'm thinking about seasons. I'm thinking about the natural progressions of natur...
Did you know that Uncle Ben was a real person? We really don't care who is fact or fiction when we want some rice to go with those red b...
I grew up in the Linda Pollin Memorial Housing Projects. First of all, I did not know that it was built in memory of Abe Pollin...