I’m rediscovering the poet and spoken word artist Stacey Ann Chin tonight. Jesus Christ. This woman speaks God into being, for real. Her words kiss you on their way past, gently coax the tears out of your eyes.
Here’s a lighter poem of hers that I heard tonight, “Tweet This, You Small-Minded Motherfucker.” All rights are hers; I just like to share.
I’ve been doing some deep thinking lately, almost in spite of myself. I took a hiatus from the world, and the world kept doing its thing. I’ve been thinking of starting a small bakery out of my house. I can’t imagine the logistics of it. A pop-up cart serving coffee and breakfast would be bomb. I’ll be thinking on it, to be sure.
I’d like to call it Underdog Bakery. This is what America feels like right now. We’re the down-and-out, the middle children, the dispossessed and unenthused. It’s hard out there, a hard hustle. I keep trying to find a way to go around the outside, to find a way into a more human way of living.
A sound like a bomb just went off outside. Now car alarms are ringing. Say hello to the underbelly of America. Do we need a revolution or what?
I’m thinking of calling the trilogy I’m writing “A Victims’ Revolution.” The story of the Mad Scientist’s wicked climb, and the far-reaching consequences that abuse and power can wreak.
An underdog bakery and a victims’ revolution. See where my head is at these days?