listening to Meek
Mill an accountability by a leprechaun disputing another escape. I was like a
hostage recoloring a box trying to relate to my captors. anti-euphoria a bred
insanity aside a cypress tree. eating woes like mowing lawns a wander too far a
gut in knots. I knit again, like dying again, with a maze filled with black kids
again. it seems crazy, I held a collar, I teared up, fleshed out, heaving
identity. so immortal like I’ll still die, can’t defeat physiology—it dies it
becomes decrepit, so beautiful in some mistake. old school, a dime bag, a beer,
two old school comrades. too chaste for me too demonized for her, plus, his
momma just joined a gang. like kung fu, kicking through sludge, like a damn
platypus. Love was shapely, I never seen a body good, it was pain letting go. I
try to nourish intelligence, I run low on emotion, passion runs high. a homy
just died. I heard an order I was forced to retreat. breakfast again. dying
again. a ghetto with winds again. a cradle with me, a father his arms, a baby
feeding on energy. my frontal lobes, something shocked them, I hit longevity
debating with fate. so polarized so damn deceased weather seems actuality.
I struggle to forget. I tarry in my soul. I remember the valley of
darkness. a name like glen, a pain like a violin, drums on a bleeding block. I popped
a bottle at like 3 p.m. I felt voltage, it’s like souls can watch us—they care,
they disrupt, momma blasted on a ghost channel. great walls, more gates, I couldn’t
get to Love—she wouldn’t have it. loses in a grave, like fever in mania, like
addressed for being good. a vestibule tree in a hallway, I hope to pick the
right door. a rope made music.
