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Living vicariously through gangsters in different eras
Urban Ghetto Boy
Mind playin' tricks in cheap motels and homeless shelters
My reality confirmed and overwhelmed by Black Voices
That brought joy and comfort
12 years old...what will happen?

Shot straight to my eardrum
A Lethal Injection
Put my locs on at the intersection
Back seat of my mom's truck
Eazy-E blarin'
She didn't say shit about no fuckin and swearin
Jockin and smackin
Chicks with dicks
Sweet Black Pussy
I'm still crazy for Quik
He caught me before puberty hit
Before I was even strokin my own dick
To the images of Mary J. Blige and Robin Givens
Once I felt the tip pulse I couldn't quit it

[OutKast Funky Ride Orgasm]

Lil' Kim let me hit it in my adolescence
Headphones pressed to my skull
Dick in both fists
I gotta have it
Ms. Fat Booty was my Mama Earth fetish
I wrote a poem about it in later years
In mental anguish
Reading Existential books
Dostoevsky's Underground Man
I am sick...
Sick of swoll' headed rappers with their sickenin' raps
Clappin' the gats, makin' the whole sick world collapse
I swore off Pac and DFC for De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest
Movin' West The Pharcyde and Freestyle Fellowship
No Bob Dobalina
In my heart I was a black kid
'Til acne-assed Billy pushed me over the side
Of the slide of the jungle gym
Back smacked the sand
I didn't wanna be Black then
Cryin' on the steps next to Darkman
Shawn said you were tougher when you were Black
Laughin' his ass off...

I miss that ashy-legged kid and his brother Jason
His sister Nikki
Whippin us with extension cords
For beatin each other's heads in
Blanket boxin in the bedroom
Knockin against the wall while Rochella drank King Cobras
With their friends and step dad
Who told us Bigfoot was gonna snatch us up from the bunk bed
Later that night we heard creakin and breathin in the hallway
Mustered up the courage to investigate
Creepin around the house
No weapons or chance of escape
Got to the bedroom at the climax
Mom's gettin that ass tapped
I'm serous as AIDS, cancer and a heart attack

No need for alarm
Don't panic
It's not a nightmare on my street we're stranded in
We all crash landed on the planet
Equal parts poor and rich
Feminine and mannish

Be a sport, take her coat
Like TLC let's just take this moment slow
Wind down, feel it with your mind now
I got the chopstick
You got the Kung Pow
That shit's spicy
If I made a movie you'd be a night owl
Hey, babydoll, where's the sex towel?
The novel by the bed about the bear and the mermaid
That's a canker sour
Not a herpe
This is my natural hair not a blonde afro toupee
Get it straight--this is a rupee
Sanskrit for cash-money
Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey
Hi Hi Hi

"There's a cry in the air
I'll catch you as before
I am the Dragonfly Hunter" (Harumi lyrics)

credits

from Baby Country: To Further The Romantic Possibilities Of The Nation, released May 9, 2015
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Big Papa Warrior Portland, Oregon

Host of Cosmic Taco Beach Shack and co-host of Cosmic Taco Love Shack (with Cloudbabe).

Every Tuesday at 4 PM PST and Sunday at 3 PM PST on Shady Pines Radio.

Supa Emcee, Immortal Poet, DJ, writer, storyteller, collage artist, space cowboy, gangsta of love, outlaw rebel outcast, movie maker, dreamer, gentleman swordsman, romantic fool, who/what, human being
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