I wanna to talk to you
but I don't know how
the possibilities
choke out
the verbs and nouns

Committed lyricist
in everythin' that I say
poetic spirted
on Broadway
spittin' “ase”

Mahogany
spittin'all this
urban poetry
tryin' to
throw this deep
to catch if
you'll notice me

You could be my all-star, one time, yeah

I wanna to talk to you
but I don't know how
the possibilities
choke out
the verbs and nouns

I wanna tell you hi
but I don't really know
if you could handle souls
and let your body flow

And let your mind move
and let this time groove
we so into hate
we forget dinner plates

Your parents hated me
cause my soul's excellence
Black lineage
so I can handle
white flames
of their temperament

Uh, representative
of the elements
Uh, you can tell me now
why they jealous, kid?
Uh,

You could be my all-star, right now, yeah

I wanna tell you hi
but I don't really know
if you could handle souls
and let your body flow

A big name
in Valley of Pygmies
Freshly squeezed
low calorie Mint Tea

Did you ever trust me?

I know your folks
envied us
too busy hackin' up lungs
like Shaq in the cut

Southwest
where we once met
Margret
moist towelettes
clean
the red wine
scarlet

Harlots
pretend
to be nuns
but in The Halls of Desire
their sex symbols
hung

And sold out
from the pulpit
I never cheated
you can miss me
with that bullshit

Though
I was savant
with debutants
Debbie never
had a taste
of my success

Sometimes I'm
Dikembe with the djembe
Late night Colombo
on the hunt
for mo' flavorful gumbo

Hack a Shaq
elbowed Mutombo
Big Shot Bob I never
played off
their struggles

The Payoffs
are doubled
cinnamons
on her tongue
Shanghai delights
limitless
on The Bund

Waitress #37
This is the sound
of remarkable flows
the unusual positions
we are meant to expose

When we snap our fingers
like Colonel Roy Mustang
Flames came forth
and the blind find
salvation

I want you to take off
so, in order to fly
clothes and regrets
must not
weigh us down

So I'm behooved
to remove the glue
of our sticky situations
and allow myself to be satisfied
with just being an untrained eye

I'm not a poet
I just crush a lot
Many of flapjack meetins'
durin' clapback seasons

And even if the temperature
has dropped since
last I was in the region
Chicago stays hot
regardless of the season

A harlot
straight narcissist
Tangled web we weave
when Peter Park
meets his Charlotte

Scarlet
caused this
the metaphysics
of this
gifted
I found it
in my pigment

It's lifted

Vintage
as a two seater
ran out of time
so I added more
numbers
to my chronometer

Me and her
equals theater
drama placed the comma
in-between her
cheaper words

Some would say
Langston Hughes
was like Moses
with blues
Ten commandments
I pad my stats
with a tablet

Knowledge…

Lyrically,
they'll never be
hyphy
and fight me
beat me
it's highly
unlikely

I wanna be
the Ludacris of Budapest
on Sundays you Zuda
but do you
study up on Buddha?

Back in the day
when we poured sugar
on them cougars
flexin' on hatas
we stay shinnin' like Luger

Yeah, you can tell me my desires …

They're your friends not mine….

I'm tryin' to holla
towards Shanghai and the Chi
red lights
red dress
she carries a couple of black skies

No shame in my game
my poetry
like floetry
all you gotta do is say yes
I'm all about consent

From Shanghai to the Chi
let your freak flag fly

If I Was Your Girlfriend
who happened to identify
as bi
would you react the same way
if I said I loved your eyes

And though fantasy
and agony
chased me towards
Shanghai
I still remember
the image
the image
the image
the image
of the damage
in her eyes

We stay with what we feel we owe...

You lay in a bed
with a woman
who has interest
in you.
You used to allude
to your x-lover
that before you two
were kerosene
the woman mitigated
over your pleasures.

Such incendiary an act
to share with your x-lover
a video,
via socially mediated conditions,
of you and the woman
huddled up
watching a TV show
that your x-lover
once introduced you to
while drawn together
within colder interior designs.

And, oddly enough,
it’s all fine
for, in your mind,
it’s all justified.
The hypocrisy
of jealousy
is For the Tears in your Eyes.

For life has and
always will be
about escaping
the lonely daze
and finding the strength
to push lovers away.

It’s as if this was a common narrative, all along

When in fact this is
indeed, quite an unusual tale

Wouldn't you say?
Would’ you say?