fig. 1: the gentleman confronts a hostile mirage

hangin out with a cinderblock and a leaf

i got leftovers
in my ghetto-80s
soviet luggage
and some socks,
and this tough-actin
bomber jacket with
sable trim,
and a ghost rider comic
from 1995,
vol. 2 no. 57
On the Road With Wolverine.

i drew a cowboy with a skull
tattoo making
a 12-gauge hole
in a zombie torso
for my little brother.

drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead

The bus driver Dolores has silver claws and a stud in her nose. She tells me where I'm goin. I wave goodbye to the pink gangsters. They roll another blunt and lean back, watching the girls commute their stuff around.

Dolores' patient voice crackles through the intercom: No smoking, no alcohol consumption, no drugs. If you do any of these you will be axed to get off the motorcoach. Hold on a second, we gonna have to turn around and go back to the garage. My windwhield wiper's actin up. This is gonna take 10 minutes y'all.

The fellers behind me are talkin crab legs: went down to China Town, got me some crab legs. That's what you gotta do, get some crab legs. Ain't no trip to China Town if you don't get some crab legs... One row up, a Mexican baby starts to cry but stops when he gets his bottle...I drank a Hagia Sophia that cost 200 dollars...

There's a red pontiac parked outside of the garage with iron grates in the windows. There's a billboard that says Got scrap metal? Get paid $$$.

rumble rumble
there not enuf leg
room
the engine purrs
large on a dogday
afternoon. st. louis
was the #1
most dangerous city
in america, but now
it's #2
beaten by...
and the winner is...
detroit! motor city
yo. the whole city
be purrin and rumblin
according to sumbumblin
danger danger
bark bark bark
the city turns people into
hungry paranoid
sniffing sniffling
K-9 units with eyes
like what's in your bag??

yellow-orange bloodshot souls
let us praise the highway patrol
hallelujah! just blink
and you'll be under
house arrest
with a dangerous detroit damsel
and infinite time
to purr and sizzle.
stir fry.

you can

chug hershey's syrup in a building made of bones.

no one beats my yummy yummy!

they wheeled me to the hospital
in a black mariah
my rhymes were so ill
the nurses caught on fire

now we all look pretty
in lobotomy city
sippin and slippin
like surly Scottie Pippen

true story

This woman gave birth to a purse. A designer purse, Dolce&Gabbana, real luxury, but you know, not a baby. The doctors ooohed and aaaahed. "Congratulations on your beautiful new purse!" the pediatrician said, handing it over to the mother, "Such a fabulous color!"

Well, a purse is still a kid, even if it is a purse. The purse was empty, except for those freshness packets. At night purse would cry. They didn't know what to feed it. Dad started buying things to put in it. Chocolates, phones, rings, cigarettes, magazines, what else do girls put in there?

"What school should it go to?" Mom would ask, cradling the Italian leather, "What instrument should it play?" "What languages should it learn?" "Koocheeekooocheekooo!"

vs.

When I was twelve we would sit around and draw pictures. I remember this older kid Owen drew a picture of me sitting on the ground in Jurassic Park drinking a can of Pepsi and flipping the bird to a velociraptor that was standing there with its tongue hanging out, in attack position, about to eat me. I thought that was the best drawing ever. It was all in 2d, everything in profile, black and white, and it was titled "Nikita vs. a Hungry Genetic Abomination."