Wednesday, February 27, 2013

How Gentrification Ruined My Sex Life

Kofi Fosu Forson

Blue Italians wearing hipster shit make a go at me the day I moved in

Macho of the two knocks on my door begs me come up listen to AC/DC

Femme boys don’t listen to AC/DC all I hear is pounding on their wall

Smiling with teeth like seeds from cantaloupe thinking he wants to score

I tell him about my love for Italian girls to fuck him off the hell away

Soon became victim of witch hunt not from LES Latina Slayer Girls

Berlin in the East Village white boys waxing ghetto on Avenue B and C

Black intellectuals caught wandering will be held captive made invisible

Fearing for my life I lived inside a bedroom waiting for bomb to hit it

Surfing through social mediocrity I came across other potential victims

On a snowy day somewhere in Italy a girl was listening to Miles Davis

A friend what is a friend of thousand friends I imagine snow her body

Polish girl made Italy her home modeled for a living how could I not

Poking back and forth poking as if we were having virtual foreplay

Fucking my fingers thinking each time I came she was on the verge

Blue Italian in the room upstairs could sense I was fucking a ghost

Soon he became ghost of the virtual lover whenever I was turned on

Fantasizing about her when it was him I knew I had to kill her off

Killed ghost of Polish model virtually murdered her so many ways

Virtual blood on these hands so I requested a friendship nothing more

Found love bullet to heart kind of love car crashes at night kind of love

She was blowing me it felt really good something she learnt from queer

Couldn’t come inside of her ghost of blue Italians possessed my cock

We heard Mexican couple humping through the ceiling where she lived

Brooklyn sex I loved her into thinking I was Screaming Jay Hawkings

Not the East Village those neighborhood boys were Italian Vampires

Tried everything feng shui prayer book light therapy Victoria Secrets

We wanted sex but a sort of dark energy followed us around the room

Didn’t know how to fuck anymore – Gentrification ruined our sex life

Friday, February 22, 2013

Every Time I Mack a Girl She’s with a Man from Chinese Mafia

Kofi Fosu Forson

She took her clothes off for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft
She loved my drawings for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft
She tried to fuck me for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft

Her Assistant Director boyfriend was Chinese Mafia not for the sake of art

Rico did drugs in the hole for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft
John wanted to kill Sally for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft
Sally fought him off for the sake of art inside that 5000 square foot loft

Met a girl named Romy drugs in her eyes asked to take my picture I stood
Up like an inflatable rubber dick fifty feet long cracked up wanting nookie
Hostess at art openings gallery girl pissed white wine coughed malt liquor

We smoked on the verandah overlooking the graffiti walls grease and scum
Down in the streets merchants sold their wares gold chains leather bracelets
Romy and I walked around handing out flyers giving the finger to anyone

Our parties were bitch top notch Hollywood came we had underground
Mobi snuck out the back door the boys from Star Wars were sipping mint
Even Orlando Bloom yeah Pirates of the Caribbean he bought a painting

When Johnny cried he was drinking red wine when Rico did he wanted ass
Eddie had wisdom of a poet he spoke Chinese Walt Whitman from Boston
Jenny Does Jenny got inspired made art with blood and the American Flag

Romy and I got lost in China Town posting pictures of an upcoming show
Drove drunk crashed into cars sat in a bar the day Janet Jackson bared her tit
Made out at the gallery had my hand on her boob but that was nothing new

Word around she was doing the Assistant Director Chinese Mafia boyfriend
Passed on hooking up with the boss of a gallery and a gal/guy Friday chick
Every time I come on to a girl she has a lover man from Chinese Mafia

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Picasso would have been a good Plumber

Kofi Fosu Forson

We met Charlie’s Tits and Beer talk art me Tony and that fat Chinese

Girls here were shot unlike those who put on a show dolled up and shit

They lined up on stage just a little higher from the floor four five or six

Otherwise these girls got a refresher course in male boneheadedness

Tony and I weren’t about gawking our bodies faced each other drinking

He loved mathematics I had a thing for film so we shot the shit on movies

The fat Chinese facing the stage brought up the name Peter Greenaway

Tony said Greenaway I said Grenaway he disagreed we left it at that

Peter Greenaway British filmmaker who used everything including shit

Like the opening scene in The Cook The Thief His Wife and Her Lover

Somehow standing in a titty bar talking Peter Greenaway made sense

These dirty girls dancing half naked were a comment on class struggle

Businessman in suit flashing dollars an example of money the economy

Turning around to see flickering lights on stage flesh of girls gyrating

Tall brunette walks up to me Tony and the Chinese part she says hello

Girl from Chicago Charlie she’s not Charlie in Charlie’s Tits and Beer

Homesick worn out bit depressed wondering what she’s doing here

Loving that Cheshire grin on my face wanting in our eyes locked up

Couldn’t pull the dickhead charm kept kissing ass playing innocent

Once in a while without her noticing I would check out the girls

Word got around about Charlie’s Tits and Beer had them coming in

One night I brought a friend macho not in that way he talked smack

Sat there confident swigging away pointing to one girl after the other

He became a regular started tipping bit more girls would take notice

Each time the dancers took a break he brought one over to the bar

Made everything special handled their drinks did some small talk

Went as far as to get into their business pay for rent buy them shit

Didn’t take long before he began cruising other titty bars picking up

Tony and I were theater people he did sound for independent films

Hung around bars the local girls checking them out hoping for love

I had quit college to be the hundredth Picasso of a hundred Picassos

Artists don’t make it he said Picasso would have been a good plumber

Spent some time alone drawing and painting the strippers at Charlie’s

Thinking if I never sell a painting or fail to be recorded in art history

At least most people will see my work say man he fucked a lotta girls