DUST UP

The back of my mind is blank obsidian

MS-DOS screen, white line blinking

Ice-nine peeling

There is no search for what's natural, programmer

Roll rider, windjammer, in tune with shadow and act

Well lit projections, tryin’ to deconstruct metaphysics for me

From Hakim to Yasin, I'm in Casco Bay, Casca wit' me

Stayin’ at the Hotel Scallops room, February 3rd

Whisper singing Nelly Furtado, wishing I was a Yardbird

Plastic saxophone, ashy metronome

My grandmomma called Vaseline grease

I remember wearin' Jordans on the South Side

When Jordan played for the Bulls and I wasn't allowed outside

If this is my mind, I'll step out-side

Hull integrity full

Classic landscape, ripe fruit and house flies

Brought a broom to a dust-up

You rap like your footwork fukked up

We planned for hiccups, obstructionists

Stick up kids and the mogs on powerpoint

Talkin' 'bout quantum futurism but ain't got space ships

Ain't got schematics, ain’t got personnel training or catering

No defense budget

I write this from the Soul Folks vessel Ruby Yacht ancestral mothership

Plottin’ coordinates to peace, hull integrity full

Five thousand parsecs beyond trans warp

With a fresh oil change, come test it if you bad

Wrote it wearin' a burlap durag

My humblest experience in truth came packaged as a thought in this sense:

The map is the only territory

When I say out loud, "the world is my idea"

When I say out loud, "suede Timbs on my feet make my cipher complete"

I am saying the same thing out loud

I find comfort in the allegory of the journey

Because I am in a literal search for brightness, voluptuousness

Brimming clarity in service of nothing else

I know that one’s resolve for life can be determined

According to translation errors inherited

My understanding itself being a summation of a suggestion of which the scope is beyond me

And I hope to only ever be utilized and in service of another's journey

There was a census taken among the grand verbalizers

There was a, um, a census taken among only the grand verbalizers

And then the data was compiled, necessarily crunched, meaning it was sorted

In such a way one could understand, or at least make use of, and by extension,

Give one license to imitate in understanding

After the data was compiled, crunched, there was a consensus among only the grand verbalizers:

"Wack muhfukkers always want a re-do."

My left eye sees in the garden of my mind clearly now

There are four heroes