How to break her


hold the paintbrush firm and create the masterpiece

Promise her cooked dinners (no microwaved noodles – the works).


talk to her

she yearns to be seen, heard, understood

to connect.

Come to her

cum into her, four, five, ten times

as many times as it takes to

turn her into soft clay.

Blow and bend her

make her stand tall

on your cracked glass floor.

Then one day

when she takes you into her mouth,

when her jaw hurts from

making you feel like a king,

when she gags as you moan in pleasure,

when she knows (or does she) that she’s all you want,

when you reach sweet sweet climax

expelling your seed into her,

swat her off you and laugh as you walk away.

That should do it.


It was one of those nights. The moon shone, a half crescent in its perl-esque beauty. The air was heavy with a cacophonous melody of laughter, spoken half promises, empty declarations and song. A soft wind blew through the dense night of Douala. Clear and unbroken like a ray of light beaming through a broken shutter illuminating dancing dust, he heard it. The sound of vibrating brass piercing through an urban symphony. He knew. He knew his mind spoke the truth when it told him he would die with a sax in his arm.