Poetry Papi 🥂

Selfie by @thepoetjessiejones on Instagram.

If you're wondering how I got that name.  

Listen up 'cause I think you'll be very intrigued.

This story will tell you if you listen.

One day, I went out to this poetry event. 

I think it was in Manhattan, Queens or Brooklyn, I'm not too sure.

But when I got there, I looked to my left and I looked to my right.

Then I looked to my left again. And boom I spotted her.

As soon as I saw her, I made a beeline to her right away,

not wanting to waste any time.

She was nice and thick and tall, big beautiful eyes, beautiful curly hair.

And she had just gotten off the mic and as I was listening to her and her words just stuck out to me. 

Head and shoulders above everything else. 

The more she spoke, the more intelligence I saw coming from her. And I kept running into her...

We struck up a conversation and she asked me what my stage name was. 

I told her I didn't have a stage name at the time. And I still don't. 

Fast forward to a couple of months down the line and we're attending an erotic poetry event.

Which is where I performed my first erotic poetry piece. And as I'm performing, I hear someone in the crowd chant. That's my, “Poetry Papi, right there.”

I think I initially intimidated her a little bit. But as I've gotten to know her, I see how she has seen how cool I am as a person and I see how lovely she is as a person.

Every time I hug her, I draw her close to me. Every time I hug her, I feel her stress melting right off of her.

I always get to see that big beautiful face and smile. I think I turned on the sapiosexual that is within her.

When she's around me, she's not supposed to be worried about anything. 

But nobody is allowed to call me,

“Poetry Papi,”

except her.