Class called and said she wants her outfit back

YOU TALKIN TO ME?

Bianca's gone to a funeral for her dead grandpa. Oh well. As if to reflect my inner longing for her company, the sky began raining and something in my heart spurred my hands to search and find Miles Davis' Kind of Blue. I couldn't resist making a play cigarette and putting on a suit as soon as the first few notes of Blue In Green bumped from the speakers...but...uh... dress up is a sport for all ages, right? AND of course, as if my Afro-phelia wasn't blatant enough, I had to read up on my Ralph Ellison. Anyone who hasn't picked it up, I highly recommend it... within the first few pages, there's about 12 black kids of all kinds of weight classes fighting each other with erections caused by an explicitly described, blonde, pink-nippled, temptress stripping for a crowd of white business men who commissioned the entire "Battle Royale." After that there's prostitutes, an all out brawl between crazy military vets that beat an elderly white man to sleep, and then there's incestual rape and jazz and all the good stuff. I digress. It's raining, I'm well dressed, and I wanted everyone to know.

I'm in deep need of a real cigar and a leather booth and a group of my oldest mob friends.

hat by H&M; coat by Burberry Prorusm; velvet blazer + shirt + tie by H&M; selvage pants by WESC; loafers by Salvatore Ferragamo

I think you got a spot there...

RASPBERRY SOUP
a poem

I had some old Calvin Klein shirt 

with cheesecloth texture

it'd become an eyesore,

as its third year with me closed in.

So I took out some POM

and some raspberry soup.

And dunked it.

And now I have a new shirt.

Henley shirt by H&M; Selvage jeans by Gilded Age;