Category: Malcolm Chesway

Steel lost the thread of this metaphor.

The best way to fight addiction is to do it before it starts. Nibble it in the butt!

The at-risk programs was time-consuming for Steel and the others at Ebenezer Baptist. Steel enjoyed it though, spending time with the kiddies, shooting hoops and making music, that kinda thing, turn ’em off from gangsterism. Gotta set ’em on the right road, the road to Jesus, past the roadside attractions of virtue and honesty and forthrightery — no, not past them, they’s the destination — no, Jesus is the destination — or salvation! Jesus is the offramp that leads to the destination of salvation, and the signs pointing a nigga that way are the virtues, like virtue, or maybe… virtues is the offramp? Or the onramp? Steel lost the thread of this metaphor. How can virtue be a virtue? What does virtue even mean? It don’t make sense.
Anyway, he like to feel he’s making a difference, and this was a way to do it. The best way to fight addiction is to do it before it starts. Nibble it in the butt!

The young adults got a program that drew upon a federal grant for young men eighteen to twenty-four with adult criminal records but no violent convictions. That included Rico Salierez. He was a slim kitkat with dimples and all, he got a girlfriend who was pretty as a dumptruck, and he got her pregnant last year. Got an abortion. That was a whole thing Steel ain’t gonna get into right now, cuzza the shit, the Supreme Court, girlies got sensitivites, you seen that Ketanji lady? She fine for a old lawyer bitch, Steel would put it to her, he would, put it to her good. No abortion after neither. Maybe a little one. Steel got qualms about abortion.

Malcolm got rules about cussing during church functions, and bitch was a straight-up violation. Straight up like a gay cup! Nigga too! Nigga, please! Steel don’t keep his tongue that clean mosta the time, cuz the Bible don’t say nothing about cussing, but he don’t argue about it. Church rules is church rules. In prison, Steel said fuck and bitch and stab that fuckin’ bitch, and in church, he scrub his tongue-wungy like he just ate out a ugly female. Gotta apartmentalize ya dickskin, nigga! Anyway, Rico got to flapping about his hardon and about Steel being an old fuddy-duddy who prolly don’t got a puckymoo that even work no more, and Steel wanna prove to him the error of his ways.

Steel ain’t reminiscing about liquor, y’all. His lips stay dry. When Steel get tonguey, he be praying, and Jesus always comes around in the end. To have faith in strength is strength enough, nigga, cuz reality is always weaker. Steel heard that in a sermon or a theology lecture on youtube or something and don’t feel like googling, you google it. Doesn’t matter.

From Winston Steel & the White Man

The melon game

They was working they hardons in the melon game. That means they stand in a circle in the buff and stick they dick in a melon — supposed to be a gourd, but they ain’t easy to find — or sometimes a acorn squash. Each of ’em be hanging a gourd on they cock and the last one to keep it impaled on they stiffy wins, so whoever lose they stiffy get disqualified.
Malcolm stood there with his massive knob swinging free, the at-risk young men sneaking giggles at it. His pecker was wrinkled and well-worn, unlike their smooth rods, concealed right now by melons. Malcolm let his manhood flop between his thighs as he looked down on the lot of ’em. “This ain’t just horseplay, ya silly winkles. This goes back to Africa. It’s a tradition that’s gone down the line through ya ancestors. It’s important. It connects you with ya heritage,” he said. The young men all looked up at him, their slim little bodies gleaming with sweat in the overheated locker room. They was all snickering gigglepusses today, and they looked like frightened fringes in the dingy, cramped room — this was the locker and shower for the halfway home in the church basement. They could smell the iron-hard convicts who came through this place. It stank of mildew and men in here.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

possessating, burglarfy

Kayshawn done enforced some discipline on some homeboys in the neighborhood, and since he was pushing nineteen years old, ain’t no court gonna go easy on him.

Kayshawn Henderson got his foolish ass arrested, not for no kiddie charges neither — he was accused of burglary, possessating burglar tools, resisting arrest, arson, menacing a court officer and a whopping nine malicious-wounding beefs. Apparently, Kayshawn done enforced some discipline on some homeboys in the neighborhood, and since he was pushing nineteen years old, ain’t no court gonna go easy on him.

As they went back to the church, Kayshawn explained that he was extorted into working for the Crips. He had needed money to buy shoes to impress a girl — it always went back to impressing a girl, if you traced it far enough, in Malcolm’s experience — and so he done sold some weed for the Crips. They wouldn’t let him stop. They made him burglarfy some households in Norwood. They told him they was protecting him from the po-po.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

cloistered, equitabilized

Some of ’em right here cloistered in this church be glaring like Gallant at Malcolm’s proud posture.

He wore his city police uniform. He knew lotta brothahs ain’t like it when a colored man becomes a cop — some of ’em right here cloistered in this church be glaring like Gallant at Malcolm’s proud posture — but he ain’t the type to get shook up so easy. The movement needs a voice on the inside, Malcolm thought, and he do what he could to ensure the equitabilized enforcement of the law.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

aboding

He was skinny as seltzer, his muscles wasted wires wrapped around his rattling bones. He got on a ripped tee shirt, so you could see his flat belly and tanned skin.

Spider was the meth-knuckler who been aboding behind that dumpster since the spring, when he done got the drop on Dippy Dan. Spider sport a tattoo of a spider on his chest and more a-crawling up his side and neck. He was skinny as seltzer, his muscles wasted wires wrapped around his rattling bones. He got on a ripped tee shirt, so you could see his flat belly and tanned skin.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

hungersome, forgivatory

He gotta admit, he done strayed like a hound from the pound on a few occasions, when the effulgence of the Lord went out in the lighthouse of his heart.

She been steady salty about him gazing hungersome upon that Shanaiyah girlie and her sweet, neat booty. As Malcolm expected, she ain’t accept the denial he been broadcasting neither. He gotta admit, he done strayed like a hound from the pound on a few occasions, when the effulgence of the Lord went out in the lighthouse of his heart. She got reason not to trust him. So he been tiptoeing around like a tomcat on a Tuesday. She only lately been acting forgivatory about it.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

disruptionating

Shanaiyah that the good Lord already knows about her ladyparts.

She shouldn’t be wearing nothing like that to church, Malcolm thought. He’d have Emma Jean Bartlebee tell Shanaiyah that the good Lord already knows about her ladyparts, she ain’t gotta show ’em off in God’s house. Her curves be disruptionating the whole congregation.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

accordant

Ain’t nothin’ proper about happy hardcore, whatevuh kinda kinky BDSM nonsense that is.

“I don’t wanna hear another word about it. State of Alleybama says I gotta keep you halfway-home brothahs accordant with the law and with proper morals. Ain’t nothin’ proper about happy hardcore, whatevuh kinda kinky BDSM nonsense that is.” He stalked off then, leaving Desmond to make crude faces at his backside. Malcolm kept muttering as he went. “Darn tootin’, I knows about all that. Ain’t lettin’ no brothah go on that ecstasy trip, buggin’ up, droppin’ in, tunin’ out, gettin’ down, somethin’ like that…”

From Malcolm Don’t Take No for an Answer

copaseptic

It was a Bloods cell — not officially, it was just copaseptic to segregate the cells by race and gang — and they often got into gang business after lights-out.

So he got to lumbering through the cell blocks, knocking on them skulls who be making noise. Cell 55K was a problem that night and most nights round that time. It was a Bloods cell — not officially, it was just copaseptic to segregate the cells by race and gang — and they often got into gang business after lights-out.

From Malcolm Don’t Take No for an Answer

distractory

Now that he ain’t got Gerald to talk to, the girls got Malcolm distractory. He steeled his nerves and his faith with the power of Christ’s love, and he sturdyfooted outta that iniquitous interior. He went out the backdoor.

Now that he ain’t got Gerald to talk to, the girls got Malcolm distractory. He steeled his nerves and his faith with the power of Christ’s love, and he sturdyfooted outta that iniquitous interior. He went out the backdoor.

From Malcolm Don’t Take No for an Answer