by F. Selassie

oh, yeah. i know him some. could listen to him all day - that mellow, low-slung voice, eloquent words, pregnant silences. i heard him read something once and still can't get the image out of my mind...read me something. anything. seems to be walking alone. wish i knew him better so I could walk with.

maybe there's something to be said for keeping it real. and it don't get much more real than this one. balding pate. oh yeah..."More than 39.3% of all Ethiopian men are in the follicle-y challenged category". but who needs stats when you have eyes? he is even more real than that. even got the brown pants. what is it with the brown pants, do you know? is it like a calling card, a boarding pass, a sign? got the beer gut. i sort of like that so sue me - something to put my arms around. he's that real height - everything within reach. wait, he's walking to his ...Toyota Camry with "Ethiopia" bumper sticker. don't know if i can stand this much real.

Isti tinsh beTisilign, tew?

wow. no clue where i'd go with this one...but it will certainly be places i ain't ever been. a tall lean taste of cool jazzy fizzy young. is it me or are they growing them finer...mmm...finer these days? locks longer than mine, loping along to a rhythm i can almost hear. eyes innocently open to all sights and sounds, with a little help from some herb, wouldn't you guess? groovy smile celebrating the night air, the vibe...and me. maybe i'll tag along...who knows what i'll learn?

Can you help a sistah out, brotha-man?

slack jaw. blank eyes. but holymotherofgod look at that body. tight muscles everywhere. skintight shirt, sintight pants. feeling kind of tight myself in these clothes. can't you almost feel the fit? ooh, nothing needs to come from this but...this. can i just practice on him, do you think? just practice once. okay, twice.

Hallo, maneh? anteye! techeger isti!

brainiac. it's clear. pure gray matter head to toe. thick glasses, slight frame already bent over from the weight of all that Qelem. there's something appealing about that distracted air - who can resist the temptation to jolt those elsewhere eyes to attention? shy smile, words tumbling-over-one-another as if there weren't enough time to get them outta the way before the next batch came through. wouldn't it be a shame to waste this?

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my favorite past-time. me sitting here on the steps, window-shopping for genes.