He saw his father resting through the foggy window-
Five minutes of peace, that’s all he ever got-
Outside it was wet, cold-
Damp, humid inside-
The house is still warm, the couch is warm-
The baseball in the corner, on the chair-
That’s one thing they always did-
Play catch-
‘Lemme see what you got, son’
Whoosh, pat, ‘ooh’
‘My boy’
‘One in a crowd’
‘I’m proud’
‘I’m sad’
‘He’s my dad’
Fear and Loathing
If the world was to end and I had to contend,
My weapon of choice is a pen in my fist and a boom in a my voice-
Spittin' wit from my lip-
Assisting kids to forget about about collective differences-
Cause I knit a web of unity from Drew down there serving drinks-
Up, tracing this room's circumference-
Till it reaches my boy, DJ Iris, and shoots through his wrist (/\/\/\) scratching his 12 inch vinyl disc, real propalay-
Subtle enough to have it sink in tomorrow morning and have you laugh out loud in the midst of your shit-
Yet, strong enough to have the tip of my tongue play ping-pong with your clit-
Right when met, before we even spoke-
As you were sippin' on that candy-cane straw in your cherry-flavored coke-
Eye-contact, eye-contact man-
Oooh, he got hold of my woman man-
I'm a go up and castrate that fuck-
Get him touched, in the middle of the night, wake him up-
Snuff his face with the dirty virgin-white pillowcase-
Have him scurred, the cold blunt steel to the side of his temple-
Or the razor sharp steel, right above his Adam's apple-
Cause when you got homicide in your blood and fury in your fist,
Ain't nuthin' you can say or do to be crossed off my elimination check-list-
The choice is yours-
You can get with this, or you can get with that-
This being my clip slapping into my gat-
And that being red spots splattered and scattered across the mattress-
Get your hands off my fuckin' neck-
Your lucky I ain't Arabian cause that'd be the utmost sign of disrespect-
Decapitate your head-
The next move gettin' your neck slit real quick-
That action's gonna be your last option and my elimination's gonna grant you a position on my death-wish check list-
But face it-
Ain't no arm, arm, head, leg you're gonna be bruisin'-
Your perusing your choices and instead of using your voice, your confusing what you have to what you wanna be choosing-
That's okay-
Learn to enjoy losing~
Old People and Cell Phone Bitches
I have patience, but it's been pushed too far-
By old people and cell phone bitches-
Car's warming, sun shining, done did inventory of lifestyle-soundtrack son-
Drive to Brunswick, 40 minute mission equals mini-excursion-
Turnpike-style, flying 85, gliding 95-South style-
Flowing smoothly----Until----Scattered red tail-lights glowing-
No worries, no worries----
Shit----Traffic slowing----Oh-no, it's too early----
Evaluate----
Lights flashing - negative-
Car crashes - negative-
No flat tires, no semis smashed in the divider, no 88 Cutlasses on fire being put it out-
Re-evaluate----
Cadillac in the first lane next to me - affirmative-
Brake-happy barely pushing 43 - affirmative-
Living over 65, senior citizen-style, 5-strand combover fighting the sun's gleam - affirmative-
Attempting second lane switch-over fly cut-around-
Probability of success----100 percent-
But before I could push the ped to the met, and juice my m.p.h. up another 10, I spotted a slow-rider barricade up ahead,
Opportunity window is down to five secs-
Adversary slightly starting to veer off-
Almost knocked my goddamn side-view mirror off-
Trying to figure out what set this crazy-ass senior off-
Debris on the freeway - negative-
Potential pothole avoidance - negative-
Possible road-head engagement - negative-
Caressing the throttle - affirmative-
Trifocal coke-bottles - affirmative-
Head beginning to teeter-totter and it looks like he got his pinky jammed up his nostril - that explains it-
Wait a minute - What's he doing? - Why's he driving faster?
Just a minute ago I thought he's about to hit his flasher, pull over to the shoulder, and restock his system with Gimsar and Lipitor -
I guess he's just one of those peep me creepin' in the rear-view, last minute speed up bastards-
Fuck that ---- This ain't the end ----
I've spent way too much time trying to predict the outcome of this Super-Off Road, R.C. Pro Am, Rad-Racing, Pole Position that I intend to win,
And if grandpa wants to contend, I'm a switch to lane one again and ride his ass till he gives in-
To the right, a business suit - Hands on 10 and 2 like he's supposed to do -
Seems stable and composed and more importantly he doesn't have any of his fingers in his nose-
But he's periodically bowing, may be nodding off from a late meeting out of town and, he better not be dialing,
veering to the left from the right and, shit----
I spotted a cell phone bitch in mid-flight-
Forget my front, back, left, right, and blind-side-
Some non-driving fools attacked form all sides-
The bastards had me trapped in the buffer till I hit exit 9~
MIA (Missing Iris Again)
So I’ve been bumpin’ Shawn Lov’s Blackout album lately-
Listenin’ to Iron Mike, scratchin’ and fadin’-
And the whole time I’m thinkin’, I hope Iris’ll make it-
Cause it’s Monday, and us open-mikers are gonna be waitin’-
But he ain’t here, he’s missin’, steady dissin’-
Whitey in the car, engine-idling, clenched fist and-
Bangin’ on the dash, wilin’ out, lettin’ loose maad emissions-
Tail-pipe, wind-pipe, menthol smoke seepin’ out the glass, tinted-
Saw the wind rattle his screen-door for an instant-
Then he flinched-ed-
Threw his shit in reverse, right before he whipped it-
Around the corner, straight to Old Bay-
Yo Whitey? Can we kick this off, my friend?
I don’t know, Iris is soft once again-
He got his wrists dislocated, helping a friend~
Duino Elegies
Tell me who, who are these travelers, more fugitive, even,
Robbing and killing without a second thought.
Vagabonds in their own way who choose to walk the doomed path.
Evil is their first impulse.
Appearance means nothing.
They may hold a hostile home at the broken corner
Or visit your home, smiling, behind a suit and tie.
As nature is my god, chaos is theirs.
My backyard was paradise this morning;
nothing could weigh down my shoulders.
As I took in deep breaths of lush, green land,
I looked into their world through the hole in the fence.
They breathe just as me, but sinister green poison fills their lungs.
I entered the traveler’s dim, gray world and saw him on the corner.
Seeing each other, face to face, we simultaneously began to pray
-eyes closed-
to ourselves.
I slurred all of my words but made perfect sense asking ‘Why is winter bad sometimes?’
He replied, ‘Because confinement leads to depression.’
I’ve heard they are dangerous to those foreign to their ways,
However, rules are disregarded when the power of will is raised~