Monday, February 25, 2013

Sisterly Signfyin'


“You are the best 
thing I never wanted”
—Centino Kemp, First Lady

“Our sisters are hurting.
They desperately yearn
for positive male figures
in their lives”
—T. BensonGlover

It be easy to see how much—
Signifyin’ there be goin on

Between Centino Kemp—
And co-author T. BensonGlover 

How Kemp’s gay reportage—
And BensonGlover’s repartee 

Come together rather nicely—
Signifyin’ about the “Life”

Kemp’s story about being preyed—
upon by Rev. Long a Man of God

And “Sister” Williams’ story—
About growin up in North Philly 

The “Life” keeps us on the run—
from pimps, prison cells & coffins

Sisters give solace & comfort to—
those sisters, raped, tortured, hurt

BensonGlover’s signifyin’ be tres—
intense ghettoese dialoging

Hardly any narrative, mostly—
Signifyin’ stream of consciousness

Sister Williams’ writing style—
Influencing Sister Kemp

Dishing pimps, sugar daddies—
What black sisters hav ta go thru

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Still Not Over You


—for Rihanna and Centino Kemp

I know we haven't spoken for a while
but I was thinkin bout you

And it kinda made me smile
so many things to say

I'll put em down on paper
maybe it’ll make it easier

The words might come 
but not like you used to, baby

Wish I could press rewind
and relive every line

The story of me and you
don't you know I really tried 

To get you out my mind
but it don't get no better

As each day goes by
I'm still lost and confused

P.S. I'm still not over you
still not over you, baby

Friday, February 22, 2013

Fading, Fading


—for Rihanna and Centino Kemp 

Generations are fading, fading
right before our eyes

All the old sorrows and regrets
they be fading, fading away

Isn’t that how it’s always been
they finally just fade away

They can’t help being that way but
now they’re just fading, fading away

Isn’t that how we’ve always been
Fading, fading away from them?

All of us ending up being this way
Fading, fading from who we were?

Thursday, February 21, 2013

FIRST LADY: Book Review

FIRST LADY: Book Review  

First Lady (Kindle Edition)
by Centino Kemp & T. Benson Glover 

Well, my dears, I stayed up last night & read the ultra trashy tell-all "First Lady."

What a Queen Bee naughty little Diva. Something to rival even the esteemed Showman Rev. Eddie Long. Contessa Kemp and her co-writer—they mercilessly Read the Beads and Drag it All de Way Out, honey.

It be okay, girl, to dump a couple of str8t black studs outta your bed every once in awhile after you get tired of them and then go on to the next cute young black thing available....

But mercy, girl—don't ever dump a queen bee diva like Miss Kemp 'cause she be the worst kinda perfectly Pissed Off Woman Scorned to get on your fuckin case, honey. Watch out, girl! Stand back!! She be Bad Trouble!!!

Contessa Kemp goes on & on. I don't know who's fuckin worse: the Good cocksuckin Reverend Eddie Long or the ditched diva queen bee Contessa Kemp.

Miss Kemp settled for $100,000. In fact, her entry into the lawsuit that was at the settlement stage was crucial for the other young black men to get a nice slice of the pie. But apparently, Miss Kemp... she be greedy for more.

Somebody (lawyers, publishers, entrepreneurs, Hollywood Confidential, National Enquirer?) smelling dirt—convinced her to launch her new music-modeling-literary career based by spilling the beans all the way on the fine upstanding Black Queer Ministry there in Atlanta. 

Oh, my oh my—does Miss Kemp read de beads, honey. Like how ugly Rev. Long's wife be... when compared with Miss Kemp’s stylish expensive kept-boy coiffure & high-class boutique fashion!!! 

And how Miss Kemp be the one & only true darling "First Lady"—at least that’s what the good Reverend says during their tricky trysts kept hidden secretly in escorted limos & classy condos across the country. 

Unfortunately, Eddie the Dinge Queen… he done ditched his First Lady. He got seduced by a series of cute young rough trade numbers right up his alley. But unfortunately, they got chilled after being sucked off and not paid enough for their seminal services. 

What makes "First Lady" so revealing and exquisitely that none of de str8t numbers could possibly tell this whole Holy Roller Sex Story in such tacky juicy lurid details as Miss Kemp and her so-very-helpful co-authoress T. Benson Glover do in this tell-all True Confessions scandalous quagmire of queer Rihanna racy raunchy ravings.  

Yes, it's simply breathtaking, my dears. How all these archetypal Black Angels, these simply fabulous "Elmer Gantry" Evangelicals do flaunt it and be gettin down & rich quick.... only to fuck up like Jimmy Swaggart getting caught with a whore in a New Orleans motel parking lot & then losing his huge Congregation along with his much anticipated so-called holy roller University now rotting in ruins out there in the Louisiana bayou boonies.  

Yes, my dears, just like with Jimmy Swaggart, it now seems de good Lawd has just about been as equally scandalized and shamed by de simply shameless "high roller" shenanigans of de latest "Holly Roller" Man of God to fall from Heavenly Grace... de handsome vain butchy muscular good Reverend Eddie Long of Atlanta, Georgia—de Sodom & Gomorrah of de Deep South!!!!!!!!!!! 

The great Southern Black Church Community be simply SHOCKED, my dears, having been so deceitfully deceived and haughtily hoodwinked by such a smooth-talkin suave sophisticated Devil up there in the Pulpit as Reverend Eddie Long!!!!

The one good thing in this whole shocking Religious Wake Up Call for all of us—is that surely the Black Religious Community will now come to its holier-than-thou homophobic heterosexist senses, Halleluiah brothers & sisters!!! 

That indeed, my dears, the Southern Black Religious Community will finally reach out and forgive the good Reverend Eddie Long for his various & sundry Homosexual Sins and Queer Transgressions!!!

Not only Forgive the good Reverend Long.... 

But also Embrace de Black Homosexual Community as well—which up until now the str8t Black Religious Community has been totally against. GLBT black folks have been demonized as tragically Taboo and Forbidden Creatures of the Night by certain overzealous unforgiving Black Leaders.

It’s time now not only for GLBT marriage—but also for leaders like Eldridge Cleaver, Toni Morrison, W.E.B DuBois, Amiri Baraka (AKA Leroy Jones), Haki Madhubuti and Minister Farrakhan to finally lovingly embrace their gay black brothers and sisters…

Once upon a time—interracial marriage wasn’t permitted in the United States of America. And one’s inheritance rights were based on—how many drops of your proud African-American blood be running through your precious whitey veins. 

So how can those who can now interracially marry—say “No!!!” to those of us who want to be permitted to marry the same way? To be proud GLBT American loving couples—protected by the same rights & rules as everybody else?

De First Lady


“The one person in my life
that gave me everything 
that I long for was toxic”
—Centino Kemp, First Lady

Baldwin must be laughing in his grave—
While Toni Morrison be tres pissed off

The taboo of black homosexuality—
Hoodoo Voodoo be back in Style

Once you’ve gone Mandingo, honey—
There aint no fucking turning back

Thanks to Reverend Eddie Long—
The “First Lady” be reading beads!!!!

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Son of Blacula


“Blacula” in 1972 as well as—
“Suck, Blacula, Suck” (1973)

Hot Blaxploitation flicks—
Caught my flaming fag attention

I started going down early—
down there in de gay ghetto

Down there in the Vieux Carré
on sultry Saturday nights

At the Bad Boy Bijou Theater—
way up there in the balcony

Giving head on my knees—
sucking off Superfly Studs

Word got around fast—
I be a Dinge queen, baby

I liked the big black stuff—
de blacker the better, man

Homo HooDoo


The Big Easy be my home—
Homo Hoodoo Voodoo, baby

Vieux Carré loas languish—
In this rotting City of Love

Homo HooDoo’s been around—
Longer than Hollywood Babylon

Harlem’s Hoodoo Voodoo once—
There at The Niggeratti Mansion

Where gay poet Bruce Nugent—
Wrote  “Smoke, Lily and Jade” 

But Harlem with its Renaissance—
Ended during the Great Depression

While Homo Hoodoo Voodoo—
Stayed Underground in New Orleans

Like some old Egyptian temple—
Down by the sluggish Nile Delta


Homo HooDoo down by the levee—
Mississippi Delta Bourbon Negritude

Mardi Gras’s got Mandingo men—
Parading up & down Canal Street

HooDoo VooDoo Mardi Gras—
Long & lanky be what I likes

Homo HooDoo VooDoo gets around—
Marie Laveau she be back in town 

Tongues be getting untied again—
Mumbo Jumbo Mardi Gras queens

Monday, February 11, 2013

Mucho Mojo


Choking on his Creole cock—
Tasting his father, uncles, brothers

Stoned, clotted with rum and coke—
Addicted to his baby-paste cum

Pea-green Gulf of Mexico eyes—
His kinky pubes my new moustache

Pealing back his licorice black foreskin—
Conjuring up his swollen pink head

Congo cock with a two-inch slit—
My tongue tip down deep inside him

Nothing like young Mandingo mojo—
Banging his head on the headboard

In my Vieux Carré hotel bedroom—
During Voodoo Créole Mardi Gras

Sunday, February 10, 2013


Basquiat Untititled


“You’re sure dark
for a white guy”
—Philip Roth
The Human Stain

Passing for a white kid wasn’t easy—
When you’ve got a big black dick like me

It’s like being queer & trying to pass—
For being a fucking str8t honky asshole

There’s no way to hide it from knowing eyes—
Eyes that know and see and see too much

My mulatto mother had to get divorced—
When my father took one look at it

One look at my proud pigmented penis—
That was it ‘cause he was outta there

My mother was high yellow just like outta—
Faulkner’s trashy novel Absalom, Absalom 

And there it was for everybody to see—
My young jet-black Mandingo manhood 

What made matters worse later on was—
I was queer as a Confederate dollar bill

I would’ve made a good Mapplethorpe model—
Once you’ve gone black there’s no turning back

Hoodoo Voodoo mojo already had me good—
My African genealogy growin' in my groin

My mulatto mother couldn’t help me—
I started wearing a Hoodoo Headrag

White chicks called me up late on Sat nights—
They wanted what I wanted: Mandingo love

Big Easy Boyfriend


Andrei Codrescu 

His soul-seed came awfully hard—
Shooting the back of my head off

He made me swallow every drop—
Something his girlfriend wouldn’t do

His stiff Créole cock a snake with—
A forked tongue that got my tonsils

I gagged and it turned him on—
Choking me to death with his load

He called me her name and groaned—
I milked every fucking Zimbabwe drop

He came harder the second time—
He was so loaded he almost fainted

Watching him shudder made me weak—
His water moccasin cum tasted awful

How could such a handsome teen stud—
Make me wanna crave his Shango cum?

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Big Easy Soul Seed

—for Ahmos Zu-Bolton

I don’t wanna write a poem—
About making out with a young
Black Voodoo stud back then

I don’t wanna write anything—
That says “blackness is” because
Everybody knows the real thing
Is the 10,000 evil ways we all
Came over here as black slaves

All I know is he was endowed—
And I tasted his tart African cum
And I got him off three times so
That his moody Big Easy love
Got into me real good with his
Nasty-tasting wads of soul seed

Voodoo Love is what I needed—
I let him flow through me mixing
With my mother’s mulatto love
Feeling his Shango sperm giving
Me all his masculine power down
To the last jizzy Voodoo squirt

Making my penis even blacker—
I could feel it getting bigger too
Feeling his deep Erzulie ecstasy 
Oozing Ogoun spaz through me 
All fucking night long, baby

Voodoo Mysteries

—for Alden Reimonenq 

New Orleans is a rotting city—
It’s been rotting away for centuries

An ancient tired old seaport—
Down by my murky Gulf of Mexico

Katrina was nothing new—
The city’s been dying for years

Hurricanes & floods come & go—
But decadent depravity flourishes

You can smell the rotting death—
For miles downwind at night

You can smell the stench of evil—
Cane, rum and black slavery

Créoles from Haiti & Guadalupe—
Their loa-languishing loins

Ibo, Congo, Nago black cock—
My mulatto mother’s complexion

My delta dinge dick her gift—
Reminding me of my divinity

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Escape from New York Redux


"Everyone's Coming To New York" is the song being sung at the stage show where Snake first meets Cabbie. The lyrics are as follows: 

Shoot a cop/
With a gun/
The Big Apple is plenty of fun/

Stab a priest/
With a fork/
And you'll spend your vacation in New York/ 

Rob a bank/
Take a truck/
You can get here by stealing a buck/

This is bliss/
It's a lark/
Honey, everyone's coming to New York!/

No more Yankees/
Strike the word from your ears/
Play the roulette/

There's no more opera at the Met/
This is hell/
This is fate/

But now this is your home and it's great/
So rejoice/
Pop a cork
Honey, everyone's coming to New York!

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Escape from New York


“We’re gonna have their best man
leading the way from the head up—
on the hood of my car!!!”
—Isaac Hayes the Duke

Snake Plissken—
With his big black tattoo

Stretchin’ from his dick—
Up past his bellybutton

He had the killer instinct—
Of his fighter pilot father

The hot-bloodedness of his—
Redhead mulatto mother

Clothe it in drag, you get—
Haughty haute couture

No Escape from New York—
Not for Snake Plissken

Ravaged by crime—
All of Manhattan Island

“Once you go in—
You don’t get out”

No turning back once—
They dump you inside

Snake ends up at the Olde—
Manhattan Musical Review

Burned-out old Fox Theater—
Doing drag with Ernst Borgnine

Singing “Bandstand Boogie”—
And “Everybody’s Going to New York”

With Lee Van Cleef & Donald Pleasance—
Harry Dean Stanton & Isaac Hayes

Breakneck burlesque—
Thrilling high-octane drag

Post-apocalyptic gender-fucks—
Edge of your seat cabaret swan songs

Kurt Russell in post-Weimar Hades—
Gets mind-blowing Bijou blowjobs

No Escape from New York—
Not for Snake Plissken

Debussy’s “Engulfed Cathedral”—
Flooding all of New York City

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Designing a New Scout Uniform


“Ultimately, designers dictate 
the uniforms that we adopt, 
and it is fashion victims who 
blindly follow in the hope to 
become more desirable/
accepted/higher up in the 
social hierarchy.”
—Is Fashion Fascism? 

We create new styles of fashions—
using cheap media design to exploit us.
It is rare to find someone who possesses 
true style, be it rebelling from the decreed 
‘this season’s look’ or merely just knowing 
what suits their body politik & shaping it. 

It takes a confident designer to try—to pull off the more daring looks of such a radical new season of scouting fashion, and it takes a much braver one to defy the often repressive fascist nature of the state & withstand the barrage of attacks from all angles from the formidable and unforgiving media and society—the sheep of yesterday versus those of today.

This brings us to start questioning the future career designs of a new Boy Scouts of America uniform. We have all read many comparisons between obvious propaganda and public relations—and the need to agree on any further compounding of scouting fascism and forced skinniness ‘agreed’ conformity.

The integrity of any tried and tested institution only lasts so long—whether it’s the military DADT policy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” or the DOMA policy of the “Defense of Marriage Act.” The American realpolitik zeitgeist changes and so does the Style of the Moment. 

Future campaigns and jobs depend on the promoting of something that is ultimately stylistically new and relevant—a style that’s not damaging to society and the image of its own forwarding tres advanced culture. Style is important—social design is how the future reforms the past and becomes the Now.

Analyzing an industry and culture is difficult—especially one that’s often blamed with the strangling constraints of complex postmodern QT style. 

The resulting shift in Queer Theory Style toward the new Boy Scouts—means redesigning the aforementioned fascist male-dominated fashion designs of pre-war fascist Italy and post-Weimer Berlin.

STYLE is mainly driven by men who design for women—as opposed to men designing for boyz. If this were not the case, then the fewer clothes the better for both sexes. 

But we're all aware of how QT Fascist gay men are—seemly entranced to leather, SM and Joan Crawford shoulder pads. 

Svelte looks and that Bette Davis way of devastatingly scoping—around the whole fucking boring tacky joint. And quipping bitchily but ever so stylishly—“What a fucking goddamn dump!!!”

Friday, February 1, 2013

New Scouting Fashions


“Social theorists speak of the "scavenging aesthetic" of modern fashion, of designers rooting around among "the archaeology of modernity" for hints and motifs and antiquated garments that resonate now, of how the modern doubles back on itself, as the past returns to "disturb and unsettle the confidence of the modern."—PETER POPHAM, “Fashion and Fascism—A Love Story,” The Independent, 3/06/2011

What could be more fashionable today than—
resurrecting worn-out old Boy Scouting USA?

What could be more decadent, my dears—
than a haughty Hitlerjungend Fashion Show?

What could simply be more tres de rigueur—
than designing nouveau Scouting Haute Couture?

What could be more kitschy & kosher—
than some cute sexy Hitler Youth models?

What could be more chic & up-to-date—
than some new Young Republicans in drag?

Throw in the Religious Right & Repugs too—
Rename “GOP” as the “Gay Old Party”!!!

What could simply be more exciting and—
challenging than today’s lazy Slacker youth?

Getting them off their slovenly fat asses—
into the Disco Cages of Gay Bars once again?

Surely Boy Scouting hasn’t gone out of style—
let those antiquated garments resonate anew!

Scavenging & rooting around those campfires—
giving the boyz a new breeder fascist face lift!

Let the Boy Scout Past double back on itself—
returning to disturb & unsettle us once again

Shaking the confidence of Boring Bourgeoisie—
queer heteronormative Boy Scouts in drag!!!