Question
If I died in my apartment
like a rat in a cage
Would the neighbors
smell the corpse
before the cat ate my face
I used to floss the albatross
like Daddy Kane with the chain
I'm trying to
jettison the ballast
with the hazardous waste
The kid is comfortably numb
routine a tedious crutch
Steep in a self-imposed
Stockholm and Lima in flux
Maybe an occupation popular
with demons and ducks
Made any mingling akin to being
seasoned and stuffed
It's a theater of
jumping jellyfish
jealous little sycophants
Miserable and flimsy
from the skippies
to the pissy pants
Each one separately convinced
they're sketching
with Da Vinci's hands
Delusion turned the communication
to prison camp
You fucking dorks ain't
a threat to the cause
There ain't a lesson we can learn
from the ostensibly lost
I think it's funny when
defendants from identical haunts
step out the tempest a measure
of what the spectrum involves
Maybe no one cares
Party over here
I'll be over there
Uh I used to
hang around with rappers
at the root of the scene
It meant a lot to feel
the fugitive community breathe
Maybe to sentimentalize
is to be truly naive
I know some shit about your heroes
that you wouldn't believe
I think we're all
a bunch of weirdos
on a quest to belong
This song's our echolocation
up in impregnable fog
That's why it's odd to see
a pile of imperfections and flaws
Ascend a pedestal to patronize
the rest of the cogs
In a mess of obnoxious fantasy
posturing and pageantry
I ain't even mad
I'm impressed shit it's baffling
God almighty chop
an ivory tower to piano keys
Play your own dirge on the way
to surfing maggot beach
You fuckin' dorks
ain't a source of the art
You can't be cooler
than the corners
where you source all your parts
The poker-faced all it takes
a couple sordid remarks
We let the manticore out
We make the sorcery bark
Life is so unfair
Party over here
I'll be over there
I view the rattling of sabers
like a show to expose
Insecurities exploding
in emotional code
When braggadocio to go
from mostly jokey to gross
Corrode a homie 'til his probity
is notably ghost
Before the hobby was a job
he was a miniature hell
You would wobble round your momma
like an infant gazelle
The disillusionment
has truly been a difficult pill
But you as anything menacing
is a difficult sell
In a whistle and bell-o-rama
Black mollies that dress up
like piranha
It's not even
compelling melodrama
It's a comedy somebody wanna
shop you as a saga
I'm very voluntarily
persona non grata
You fuckin' dorks
ain't the leaders we need
This ain't the medium for divas
out to weasel and breed
I'm offin' coffee with the paupers
over tea with the queen
Don't make him show the regency
what disobedient means
Heavy load to bear
Party over here
I'll be over there