"Sometimes I didn't have toys to play with. all I had was words- maybe a couple pens I could play hand-hockey with on a desk a balled up piece of paper for a puck. Text was my first friend."

poetry of JOMO

I keep some of my most sincere words on this page.

Read, explore, laugh, cry, question.

inrotationeveryweek

My Hardest Goodbye

this poem is about my dad.

49th and Hamp

my beginnings; what carved me.

Dad Shit

this is some of the craziest work I had to endure, but its a remarkable experience, along with alotta shit.