I haven’t written any poetry in awhile

I am the black jelly bean in the bag; Be, be, see – who you want me to be… Everyone tries to scrape off the burnt toast, And shake off the soot from the chimney. Am I alike the darkness that blankets you in the night? Can I compare to the untrusted lack of light?

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Conversation: Concrete Jungle Fever

I think I’ve finally came up with a pithy answer to a query that has been broached innumerable times during this crazy sojourn of mine here in Berlin, Germany. This is solely based on my own personal experience. This conversation comes from a quite infamous online gay dating website: HIM: which city in the world

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Uncle Tom’s Cabin

Doing some research on one of my favorite literature works…more coming soon.

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Video: “Staying”

Self=Portraits Video Series #46 I’ll explain in an upcoming post… D

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Prose: Schein

“Why don’t you just get married?” It is the question I’ve been asked by every Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief, Doctor, Lawyer and Indian Chief in Berlin. In this slut city where people spend more time and energy trying to outsmart the lax strictness of the laws than actually obeying them, it is

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Prose: “Food”

In front of me there was a plate of “food”. Next to me the seats were empty. Next to me sat no one. Not far from me there were people. One was the most beautiful man in the world, the other, the most ugly man in the world, the other, someone of nondescript appearance and

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