A Poem about waiting in line for the Basquiat exhibit on the second to last day and then seeing the movie with David Bowie in it two weeks later

The above makes this self-explanatory but awhile ago I saw the Basquiat exhibit at Brooklyn Museum with vampire from hell, otherwise known as rock you amadeus, otherwise known as Marty and I spent the better part of my breakfast writing this in iambic pentameter (not at all) so eat it up because it deserves that much:

Are there not Negroes who write grafitti
Of whom Madonna did not go down on?

For surely if there bees that poet
Half of Brooklyn will not know it.

Look at the blouse on that quiet girl mouse
When in repose she dreamt Hollywood Negroes

King on the top of my head not sufficient
That guard in the lobby could be more proficient

genius. roach. wish i had dreads.

Luther Vandross

A Vocal genius.

Luther passed away this weekend and actually it made me sad. I used to tease the image of the now late-great 80's crooner but truth be told he was for me what Lennon was for children of hippies and before you go knocking that comparison let me just remind you he dueted with Frank Sinatra and early on in his career sang backup for Bowie, spiceing up his song "Young Americans" with the ad lib "I heard the news today, oh boy."

My favorite music critic Kelefa Sanneh delivers a precise epitaph.

And for the novices out there I'd recommend the following songs in descending order:
1 - A House is Not a Home
2 - Never Too Much
3 - Superstar
4 - Having a Party
5 - Here and Now
6 - Since I Lost My Baby
etc...

So I DARE you to not dance suggestively to "Never Too Much" or to not get married in the South to "Here and Now." A chair is still a chair; A chair is not a house; A house is not a home; but a home is definetly not an Omarion ballad.


Where art thou good R&B?



Rest in peace Luther. Thank you.

Random Thoughts Time

Another thing I hate worse than racism: Reverse, reverse racism.


It's freaking hot, no?