Grace Jericho Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

I see ‘em – sometimes. On corners. Eyes hollow – but sharp. Like they KNOW shit. More than me – maybe. Used to piss me off – society, man. Just tossin’ ‘em aside. Like trash. “You’re no good!” – that’s what they hear. All damn day. But then – whoa. I heard this story once. Wild one – true too. Back in the ‘80s – this hooker. Called her “Diamond Lil.” Ran her own gig – no pimp. Ballsy as hell – took no crap. Made BANK too – cash stuffed in mattresses. Lil was legend – cops couldn’t touch her. Slipped away – every time. That’s the kinda fire I dig – surprises me. Every damn time.

Rahab the Harlot?

Rahab, like the rest of Jericho's inhabitants, was deeply frightened. As a pagan prostitute in a doomed city, her prospects seemed bleak. Across the Jordan.

Man, sometimes I get mad at the mundane routines but then again, the raw energy here is just flux capacitor-level bizarre. When I’m coaching, I notice subtle vibes, things others might totally skip—like the way the pavement glows under the neon signs at night. Crazy detail, right?

Jericho Brown - 2024 MacArthur Fellow