maldoror: The Hood Chants of Maldoror (AAVE Street Vibes

The Hood Chants of Maldoror (AAVE Street Vibes)

Bar 3: The Fly Boy Beatdown

Drop 1

Man, let’s roll call them ghost — vibe cats — angel — style — my pen yanked from a head glowin’ with they own shine back in that second jam. They drop dead soon as they pop — like sparks you barely clock fadin’ quick on burnt paper. Léman!... Lohengrin!... Lombano!... Holzer!... Y’all flashed for a sec — rockin’ youth’s tags — on my hyped — up skyline — but I let y’all sink back in the mess — like diver’s bells hittin’ bottom, fam. Y’all ain’t climbin’ out — I’m good holdin’ y’all in my head — gotta clear deck for new shapes — maybe less fly — birthed by this wild — ass love storm that’s swore off quenchin’ its thirst with man — kind. Hungry — ass love — would chew itself up if it ain’t diggin’ sky — high tales — stackin’ a seraph pyramid over time — more than bugs in a water drop — twistin’ ‘em in a spin it whips ‘round itself. Meanwhile — some road — cat — stalled by a waterfall’s roar — lifts his mug and clocks — way off — a cat swept to hell’s basement by a live camellia chain! But hush — fifth dream — cat’s shape creeps slow — like them shaky northern dawn folds — on my misty head — plane — gettin’ sharper every tick…

Mario and me — we’re cruisin’ the shore — horses neck — stretched — slicin’ space’s skin — kickin’ sparks off beach rocks. Breeze smackin’ us dead — on — billowin’ our coats — flingin’ back the hair on our twin domes. Gull’s squawkin’ and flappin’ — tryna warn us ‘bout storm creepin’ close — yellin’:

— “Where they boltin’ with this mad — ass run?”

We ain’t spittin’ — deep in our heads — lettin’ this wild ride carry us. Fisher — cat clocks us flash by — fast as an albatross — thinks he’s peepin’ them mystery twins — tagged that ‘cause they always tight — crosses himself quick — ducks with his froze — up mutt under some deep — cut rock, bruv. Shore folk heard wild tales ‘bout these two cats — poppin’ on earth in clouds when big — mess times hit — war ‘bout to jam its spear in two enemy crews’ chests — or cholera slingin’ rot and death on whole cities with its flick. Oldest wreck — cats scrunch they brows heavy — swearin’ them two ghosts — everybody clocked they wide black wings in storms over sandbars and reefs — was earth’s spirit and sea’s spirit — struttin’ they king — vibe through the air when nature flipped — locked in a forever — tight bond — so rare and fly it stunned gen — stacks stretchin’ endless.

Word was — soarin’ side by side like Andes condors — they dug circlin’ tight through sun — close air — layers — chowin’ on light’s cleanest juice up there — but they’d only dip they steep — ass flight toward that shook — up orbit where man’s crazy rock spins — packed with cold — blood cats butcherin’ each other on battle — roar fields (or slicin’ sneaky in city guts with hate or hustle blades) — feedin’ on live — vibe beings like ‘em — just a few steps down life’s ladder. Or — when they locked in hard — tryna spark man’s regret with they prophet bars — swimmin’ big — stroke toward starry spots where a planet churned in thick greed — pride — curse — sneer fumes — risin’ like plague — haze off its nasty mug — lookin’ small as a ball — near — ghosted from distance — they always hit ticks where they’d curse they misread kindness — clowned and dissed — duckin’ to volcano pits to chop it with live fire boilin’ in core — deep vats — or sea — bottom to chill they burnt — out eyes on abyss’s wildest beasts — lookin’ like soft — vibe champs next to man’s mutts, mate.

Night dropped — dark givin’ cover — they’d burst from porphyry — rim craters or under — sea flows — leavin’ that rocky shit — pot where man’s constipated kakadu — arse squirms way back — ‘til they couldn’t clock that foul planet’s hangin’ shape no more. Then — gutted by they flop — ‘round stars feelin’ they hurt and under God’s peep — earth’s angel and sea’s angel hugged up — bawlin’!... Mario and me ridin’ tight didn’t blank them vague — spooked whispers shore — cats swapped at hearth — side chills — doors and windows locked — while night — wind — tryna warm up — whistles ‘round the straw shack — rattlin’ its shaky walls — circled low with shell bits them dyin’ waves dragged in.

We ain’t talkin’ — what two lovin’ hearts spit? Nothin’ — but our eyes laid it all out. I hit him to wrap his coat tighter — he clocks my horse driftin’ too far from his — each got the other’s back like it’s our own skin — ain’t laughin’. He tries grinnin’ — but I peep his mug’s haulin’ heavy — ass scars from deep — cut thinkin’ — always leanin’ over them riddle — cats that throw man’s big — dread vibes off with a side — eye squint. Seein’ his play flop — he flips his peepers — bites his bit with rage — foam — scopes that horizon boltin’ from us. My turn — tryna pull up his gold — vibe youth — itchin’ to strut pleasure’s cribs like a queen — but he clocks my words crawlin’ slow from my lean — ass mouth — my own spring days gone — grim and froze — like a cold — blood dream draggin’ sour kicks of let — down — age’s stank wrinkles — lone — ass scares — and pain’s torches ‘cross feast — tables and satin racks where love’s pale priestess — paid in gold’s flash — crashes. Seein’ my play flop — ain’t shocked I can’t lift him — Big Man looms up — decked in torture — gear — glowin’ in horror’s full blaze — I flip my eyes — scope that horizon boltin’ from us…

Our horses galloped shore — side like they’re dodgin’ man’s peep… Mario’s younger than me — damp air and salty spray hittin’ us chill his lips. I spit:

— “Watch it!... Watch it!... Clamp them lips tight — ain’t you clockin’ frostbite’s sharp claws cuttin’ your skin with burnin’ slices?”

He locks on my brow — hits back with tongue — flicks:

— “Yeah — I see them green claws — but ain’t shiftin’ my mouth’s natural set to duck ‘em — peep if I’m cappin’. If it’s Providence’s call — I’m ridin’ it — could’ve been sweeter, reckon.”

I holler:

— “Big up that noble clapback.”

Wanna rip my hair — but he shuts me down with a hard stare — I roll with it, respect tight. Gettin’ late — eagle’s headin’ back to its cliff — dug nest. He says:

— “I’ll sling you my coat to block that chill — don’t need it.”

I snap:

— “Woe if you do — ain’t lettin’ nobody take my hit — ‘specially you.”

He don’t hit back — I’m on point — but I start easin’ him up ‘cause my words cut too sharp… Our horses galloped shore — side like they’re dodgin’ man’s peep…

I lift my head — like a ship’s nose ridin’ a fat wave — spit:

— “You droppin’ tears? Hella real — king of snows and mists — ain’t seein’ drops on your mug — fly as cactus bloom — lids dry as a creek — bed — but deep in your peepers — I clock a vat — blood — full — your clean — vibe boilin’ — neck stung by a big — ass scorpion’s jab. Wild gust’s hittin’ the fire under that pot — spillin’ dark flames past your holy rim. Pressed my hair to your pink brow — caught a burnt whiff — they singed. Shut them eyes — or your mug — torched like volcano spit — gonna ash out in my palm, mate.”

He swings to me — reins loose in hand — scopes me soft — slow liftin’ and droppin’ them lily lids like sea’s push — pull. Digs my bold ask — hits back like this:

— “Don’t sweat me. Like river fumes crawl up hill — sides — hit the top — bounce to sky as clouds — your stress ‘bout me crept up — no real why — stackin’ a bleak — ass trick over your head. Swear ain’t no fire in my peepers — though it’s like my dome’s dunked in a hot — coal helm. How my clean — vibe boilin’ in a vat — just hearin’ faint — muddled cries — wind’s moans over us to me. Ain’t no scorpion crashin’ with sharp grips in my chopped — up orbit — reckon it’s tough tongs crushin’ my sight — wires. Still — vibe with you — blood in that vat got yanked from my veins by some ghost — hitter while I crashed last night. Waited long for you — sea’s fave kid — my sleepy arms scrapped blind with Him sneakin’ my crib’s hall… Yeah — my soul’s bolted in my frame — can’t bust out — jet from these man — sea — hit shores — dodge that grim — ass pack of woes chasin’ man — goats through despair’s bogs and drops. Ain’t moanin’ though — took life like a cut — told suicide nah to patchin’ that scar — want the Creator scopin’ its wide — ass gap every tick of his forever — that’s my hit on him. Our rides slow them brass hooves — frames shakin’ — like a hunter clocked by peccary mobs. Can’t let ‘em ear in on us — too much focus might juice they smarts — maybe catch our spit. Woe to ‘em — they’d hurt deeper! Peep man’s hogs — that brain — gap from creation’s crew don’t look like it’s copped at a steep — ass pain price? Roll my way — jam that silver spur in your ride’s side…”

Our horses galloped shore — side like they’re dodgin’ man’s peep.

Drop 2

Man, here come the wild chick — twirlin’ past — half — clockin’ some blurry memory, fam. Kids chasin’ her — slingin’ rocks like she’s a blackbird. She swings a stick — fake — actin’ like she’s after ‘em — then peels back to her run. Dropped one shoe on the way — don’t even clock it. Long spider legs creepin’ her neck — just her hair playin’ tricks. Her mug ain’t human no more — cacklin’ like a hyena on a tear. Bits of words slip out — stitch ‘em up, barely a cat’d catch clear sense. Dress torn in spots — jerkin’ ‘round them bony — ass, mud — streaked legs. She rollin’ forward — like a poplar leaf caught in wind — her youth — dreams — old joys — all peepin’ through the haze of a smashed — up head — spun by wild — vibe drifts she don’t steer. Lost that first — cut grace and shine — step’s nasty now — breath stinkin’ brandy — harsh. If cats was happy on this rock — that’d be the real shock, mate. Mad chick ain’t throwin’ shade — too proud to moan — gonna drop dead keepin’ her secret from them who care but got told never chat her up, bruv. Kids chasin’ — slingin’ rocks like she’s a blackbird.

Paper roll slips from her chest — some random cat scoops it — locks in all night — reads the script — here’s what it spit:

“After years dry as hell — Providence dropped me a girl. Three days — I’m on my knees in churches — thankin’ non — stop that Big Man’s name for finally hittin’ my wish. Fed her my own milk — she’s more than my life — watched her grow quick — stacked with all the soul and body goods. She’d hit me:

— ‘Wanna lil’ sis to vibe with — tell the good Lord send me one — I’ll twist up violets — mint — geraniums for a garland to big Him up.’

Only answer — scoop her to my chest — kiss her deep. She’s already clockin’ critters — askin’ why the swallow just skims man — crib roofs with its wing — don’t roll inside. I’d hush her with a finger — like keep it low on that heavy — ass riddle I ain’t unpackin’ yet — tryna shield her kid — head from too wild a jolt — flip the convo fast off that sore spot — tough for any cat from the crew that’s jacked rule over creation’s beasts unfair. She’d talk graveyard pits — sayin’ they air’s sweet with cypress and ever — blooms — I ain’t knockin’ her — but spit it’s the birds’ hood — they singin’ dawn to dusk — graves they nests — liftin’ marble at night to crash with they squad. All them cute fits coverin’ her — I stitched ‘em — lace too — thousand twists — saved for Sundays. Winter — she’s posted legit by the big hearth — thinkin’ she grown — summer — meadow feels her soft steps chasin’ free — vibe hummers and zig — zag butterflies with her silk net on a reed.

— ‘What you up to — lil’ roamer — soup’s waitin’ an hour — spoon gettin’ antsy?’

She’d leap my neck — swear she’s done strayin’ — next day she’s back — slippin’ through daisies — mignonettes — sunrays — mayfly spins — only knowin’ life’s prism — not its sting — hyped she’s taller than a titmouse — clownin’ the warbler’s weak tune ‘gainst the nightingale — sly — tonguin’ the grimy raven watchin’ her like a pops — smooth as a kitten. Ain’t holdin’ her long — time’s creepin’ when she’d bounce — outta nowhere — ditchin’ life’s charms — leavin’ doves — grouse — finches — tulip and anemone chatter — swamp grass wisdom — frogs’ sharp — ass quips — stream’s cool grip. They told me what went down — I ain’t there when it hit — takin’ my girl — if I was — I’d’ve guarded that angel with my blood… Maldoror rolls by with his bulldog — clocks a girl crashed under a plane tree — first thinkin’ she’s a rose. Can’t call what hit his head first — her sight or the play after. Strips quick — knowin’ his move — bare as rock — jumps her — hikes her dress to hit her clean — vibe — broad daylight! No shame — nah… Ain’t lingerin’ on that foul mess. Head sour — he gears back up fast — scopes the dusty road — nobody trekkin’ — tells the bulldog choke her out with jaw — snaps — points that mountain mutt where she’s gaspin’ — screamin’ — steps off — dodgin’ them sharp teeth sinkin’ pink veins. That call might’ve hit the bulldog harsh — thinks it’s redoin’ what’s done — this wolf — monster snout — settles for rippin’ her clean — vibe instead. Blood’s spillin’ fresh from her torn gut — down her legs — meadow — wide — moans mixin’ with the beast’s whimpers. She flashes the gold cross off her neck to spare her — too shook to show it to them wild eyes of the first cat tryna cash in on her young — ass weak. But the dog knows — cross its boss — sleeve — flicked knife’d gut it no warnin’. Maldoror (name’s a damn grind to spit!) hears her pain — cries — buggin’ she’s still kickin’ — not dead yet. Steps to the kill — altar — clocks his bulldog lost in low — vibe dirt — head up over her like a wreck ridin’ waves — kicks it — splits an eye. Mad bulldog peels — draggin’ her hangin’ frame a stretch — too damn long even if short — cuts loose only ‘cause its run’s jerky — but ain’t scrappin’ its boss — who’s done seein’ it. Pulls an American switch — ten — twelve blades for all plays — flips out that steel hydra’s jagged legs — scalpel — tight — seein’ grass still green under all that spilled blood — sets to gut her womb — no flinch. From that wide — ass hole — yanks her insides one by one — guts — lungs — liver — heart last — ripped from roots — dragged to daylight through that grim gash. Kill — cat clocks she’s long — gone — gutted bird — stops his risin’ wreckin’ — lets the stiff crash back under the plane tree. Found the knife ditched steps off. Shepherd — seein’ the hit — killer unknown — spills years later — sure the cat’s bolted past borders — safe from payback if he snitched. I felt for the fool pullin’ that deed — law ain’t seen — no roots — ‘cause he prob’ly lost his head swingin’ that four — way triple blade — rakin’ her guts top to bottom — felt for him — if he ain’t wild — his nasty move cooked a deep hate ‘gainst his kind — hittin’ an innocent kid’s flesh and veins — my girl. Watched them bury them broke — ass man — bits — quiet — givin’ in — hit a grave to pray every day.”

End of that read — random cat’s juice taps out — faints. Wakes — burns the script — forgot that young — days memory (habit dulls your head!) — back after twenty years in this cursed spot — ain’t coppin’ no bulldog!... Ain’t choppin’ it with shepherds!... Ain’t crashin’ under plane trees!... Kids chasin’ — slingin’ rocks like she’s a blackbird.

Drop 3

Man, Tremdall taps that hand one last time — cat who’s ghostin’ on purpose — always boltin’ from him — man’s shadow stayin’ tight on his tail, fam. Wandering Jew’s thinkin’ — if crocs ran this rock’s throne — he wouldn’t be dodgin’ like this. Tremdall’s posted valley — high — one hand shieldin’ his peepers to juice up the sun’s rays — sharpen his sight — other’s feelin’ up space’s chest — arm stiff and flat. Leanin’ in — friendship’s statue — he’s scopin’ with eyes deep as the sea — watchin’ this traveler’s boots climb the coast slope — propped by his iron — tipped stick. Ground’s slippin’ under him — even if he wanted — can’t lock them tears or vibes down:

— “He’s way off now — clock his shape hittin’ a tight trail — where he rollin’ with that heavy step? He don’t even know… Still — I’m damn sure I ain’t dreamin’: what’s that closin’ in on Maldoror? That dragon’s huge — bigger than an oak, mate! Them whitish wings — strapped tight — look like they got steel nerves — slicin’ air smooth as hell. Body kicks off tiger — chest — ends snake — tail — ain’t used to peepin’ this wild shit — what’s on its brow? Some word in code — can’t crack it. One last wing — flap — lands him next to that cat I know by voice. Hits him with:

— ‘Been waitin’ for you — you me — time’s up — I’m here — read my name off my head — hieroglyph — style.’

But him — soon as he clocks the foe — flips to a giant — ass eagle — gearin’ for scrap — snappin’ that hooked beak hyped — like he’s sayin’ he’ll chow the dragon’s back half solo. They’re circlin’ — rings tightenin’ — scopin’ each other’s juice ‘fore clashin’ — smart move. Dragon looks tougher — I’m rootin’ it over the eagle — this show’s gonna hit me deep — part of my soul’s in it, bruv. Fly dragon — I’ll hype you with yells if it’s on — eagle’s best out’s gettin’ beat. What’s holdin’ ‘em? I’m shook — ass tense — c’mon dragon — you kick it off. That quick claw — swipe ain’t bad — swear the eagle’s feelin’ it — wind’s snatchin’ its dope feathers — blood — streaked. Oh — eagle rips your eye with its beak — you just grazed skin — should’ve clocked that. Big up — clap back — snap its wing — no cap — them tiger teeth sharp as hell. If you could roll up while it’s spinnin’ ground — side through sky! I peep this eagle’s got you holdin’ — even droppin’. It’s down — ain’t risin’ — them wide — open cuts got me buzzed. Swoop low ‘round it — lash with that scaly snake — tail — finish it if you can — guts up — dope dragon — sink them fierce claws — let blood mix blood — streams with no water. Easy spit — tough pull. Eagle’s flipped a fresh block — play — this fight’s bad — luck twists — it’s slick — parked hard on its last wing — thighs — tail — once its steer — darin’ wilder hits than what’s come. Now it spins tiger — fast — no wear — now flops back — paws up — cool — eye mockin’ its foe. Gotta know who’s takin’ it — this can’t drag — thinkin’ what’s next! Eagle’s fierce — big leaps shakin’ dirt — like it’s ‘bout to fly — knows it can’t. Dragon ain’t buyin’ it — reckons any tick eagle’s hittin’ that blind side… Damn me — it’s on — how’d dragon let its chest get nabbed? Craft and juice ain’t cuttin’ it — eagle’s glued — leech — tight — beak diggin’ deeper — takin’ new cuts — through dragon’s neck — root to gut — just body showin’ — chill — no rush to peel out — huntin’ somethin’ — while tiger — head dragon’s roarin’ — wakin’ woods. Eagle’s out that cave — eagle — you grim — ass sight! Redder than a blood — pit — clutchin’ a thumpin’ heart in that taut beak — wounds cloakin’ you — you wobble on feathered legs — swayin’ — beak locked — next to dragon dyin’ in wild — ass throes. Win came rough — still — you nabbed it — gotta spit true… You playin’ reason’s rules — ditchin’ eagle skin as you step off dragon’s stiff. So — Maldoror — you smashed it! So — Maldoror — you crushed Hope! Now — despair’s chowin’ your cleanest juice! Now — you strut — slow — tight — back to bad’s lane! Even me — half — numb to hurt — that last hit you dropped on dragon stung me too — clock my ache! But you spook me — peep — peep — way off — that cat’s boltin’. Over him — dope dirt — curse blooms thick — he’s damned — damnin’ — where your kicks takin’ you? Where you driftin’ — wobbly like a sleep — walker on a roof? Let your twisted fate roll out! Maldoror — peace out! Peace out ‘til forever — where we ain’t linkin’ up, fam!

Drop 4

Man, it’s a spring day — birds chirpin’ they jams — cats out grindin’ they gigs — soakin’ in that tired — vibe holy glow, fam. Everythin’s hustlin’ its fate — trees — planets — sharks — all but the Creator! He’s sprawled road — side — gear ripped — bottom lip hangin’ like a knocked — out cable — teeth nasty — dust mixin’ with them blond waves. Numbed out — heavy — ass doze — smashed on rocks — body twitchin’ useless tryna stand. Juice left him — laid out — weak as a worm — chill as bark. Wine’s floodin’ ruts — dug by his shoulder — jerks. Dumb — vibe — pig — snout style — got him under wing — throwin’ lovin’ looks. Legs — all slack — sweepin’ dirt like blind poles. Blood’s pourin’ from his nose — face smashed a post when he dropped… He’s smashed! Mad — ass smashed! Smashed like a bug that chowed three barrels of blood all night! Spewin’ jumbled — ass bars fillin’ the air — ain’t repeatin’ that mess here — if the top — dog drunk don’t rate himself — I still gotta rate cats, bruv. You clock the Creator… gets smashed? Pity that lip — dirtied up in orgy cups!

Hedgehog rolls by — jams spines in his back — spits:

— “That’s yours, mate — sun’s half — done — grind, slacker — don’t snatch other cats’ bread — hold up — you’ll cop it when I call that hooked — beak kakadu.”

Woodpecker and owl swing through — sink beaks deep in his gut — hit:

— “That’s yours — what you doin’ on this rock? Playin’ this grim — ass skit for beasts? Mole — cassowary — flamingo ain’t copyin’ you — swear it.”

Donkey trots up — kicks his temple — says:

— “That’s yours — what I do for these long — ass ears? Even crickets shade me now.”

Toad hops past — spits slime on his brow — lays:

— “That’s yours — didn’t make my eye this big — if I’d clocked you like this — I’d’ve draped your frame’s shine under buttercups — forget — me’s — camellias — no cat’d peep you.”

Lion strides in — dips its king — vibe mug — drops:

— “Me — I rate him — even if his glow’s dimmed now — y’all flexin’ proud but weak — hittin’ him crashed out — happy takin’ passersby disses you didn’t spare him?”

Cat strolls up — stops ‘fore the Creator — cats don’t clock him — and with louse and viper cheerin’ — shits three days on his grand mug! Woe to that cat for that diss — ain’t spared the foe — sprawled in mud — blood — wine — no guard — near ghosted!…

Then Sovereign G — finally shook by them petty — ass jabs — pulls up how he can — wobbly — parks on a rock — arms danglin’ like a sick cat’s nuts — throws a dead — ass stare — no spark — over all nature — his turf. Y’all wild — ass kids — spare this big — vibe cat — still reelin’ from that foul brew — too tapped to stand — flops back heavy on that rock like a road — beat cat, fam. Clock that beggar rollin’ by — sees the dervish stretch a starved arm — don’t know who he’s hittin’ — tosses bread in that beggin’ grip. Creator nods props. Man — y’all don’t get how holdin’ universe reins non — stop grinds you down! Blood rushes your dome — tryna yank one last comet from nothin’ — new soul crew — head’s shook too deep — pulls back beat — might crash once a life in them drifts y’all peeped, reckon!

Drop 5

Man, red lantern’s swingin’ — vice’s flag — hangin’ off a rod’s tip — catchin’ licks from all four winds over a fat — ass, worm — chewed door, fam. Grimy hall — stinkin’ like man — thighs — dumps into a yard where roosters and hens — skinny as they wings — scratch for scraps. Wall boxin’ the yard — west — side — got a few tight — cut holes — barred shutters — moss creepin’ over this joint — prolly a convent back in the day — now crash — pad for chicks flashin’ they insides daily to cats rollin’ in for some gold. I’m posted on a bridge — legs sunk in the moat’s muddy brew — scopin’ this leaned — out buildin’ from up high — clockin’ every bit of its guts. Sometimes a shutter creaks up — grindin’ like a hand’s rippin’ iron’s rules — cat pokes his dome through the half — gap — shoves shoulders past flakin’ plaster — drags his frame — cobweb — draped — through that tough squeeze. Hands crownin’ the filth heapin’ the dirt — one leg still twisted in the bars — he pulls back to standin’ — dips them mitts in a busted tub — soap water’s seen crews rise and drop — then jets quick from them slum cuts — chasin’ clean air city — core, bruv.

Client bounces — naked chick pops out same way — heads for that tub. Then roosters and hens swarm from all yard corners — sniffin’ that seed — vibe — knock her flat — she’s thrashin’ hard — they stomp her like dung — peck her swole womb — lips ‘til blood’s spillin’. Fowl crew — throats full — bounce back to clawin’ grass — chick — cleaned up — pulls up shakin’ — cut deep — like wakin’ from a bad — ass trip. Drops the rag she brought for her legs — no need for that shared tub now — crawls back to her hole like she came — waitin’ next trick. Seein’ this — I’m itchin’ to hit that spot too! Start droppin’ off the bridge — then clock this Hebrew carve on a pillar ledge:

“Y’all crossin’ this bridge — don’t roll in — crime’s kickin’ it with vice — one day a young cat’s crew waited for nothin’ after he crossed that cursed gate.”

Curious got me over spooked — few ticks later — I’m at a shutter — bars thick and tight — locked up. Try peepin’ through that heavy — ass sieve — nothin’ at first — but sun’s rays dim — horizon — bound — I start clockin’ the dark room’s shapes. First thing hittin’ me — only thing — blond stick — stacked cones slidin’ in — and it’s movin’! Pacin’ the room! Shakin’ so wild — floor’s wobblin’ — bashin’ both ends — rippin’ fat holes in the wall — like a ram hittin’ a locked — up city gate. No dice — walls holdin’ with cut stone — each smack bends it like steel — bounces like a rubber ball. This stick ain’t wood! Then I peep it coil — uncoil — slick as an eel — man — tall but never straight. Sometimes tries — shoves one end at the bars — leaps wild — flops back — can’t bust through. I’m starin’ harder — it’s a damn hair! After scrappin’ big with its cage — vibe trap — slumps ‘gainst the room’s bed — root on the rug — tip propped by the headboard. Hush hits — cut by choked sobs — then it spits:

“My boss ditched me here — ain’t comin’ back. Got up from this bed I’m leanin’ on — combed his scented locks — didn’t clock I’d dropped ‘fore that. If he’d scooped me — wouldn’t’ve tripped on that basic fair play. He’s ghosted me in this sealed — up spot after tanglin’ with some chick — and what a chick! Sheets still damp from they warm — ass rub — messed up with a night’s love mark…”