Walk and tarry, man’s an eschatologistic emissary Got some berries now he’s sitting opposite apothecaries Really need the competence for confidence to block and parry And with their concoctions popping draughts he got savant and scary Not buried in the mainstream, he’s estuary But when Panthalassa spans the continents he’s legendary A man of awesome airy knowledge and a mess of hair he’s Often off in offices and nominally best at swearing Making do with that, straight outta Ginnungagap Gernsback shit the kid’s a presence in the future past Gruesome fact, music for elusive scratch Losing or occluded in a room fulla secluded scraps Doing rap, easy bleeding freshman, I’m needing blessings I fiend to keep my head up in the beats I’ll be the best with I’m wrestling, no intercessories beating aggression so I’m Wrecking man’s Requiems like Genius: Transgression does Sentimental flow galore, existential horrorcore Genre all too common gonna pop with more a smorgasbord Chronovore, rapping a bit, short-form rationalist Old courts fashioned a lit scoreboard maximalist No more half of a kid, unknown quantity A loner persona non grata no god prodigy Honestly, I’ve gotta try more words on better merits Less Dresden Potter, more Thorburn and Evans-Verres Kiss away the old days and piss away the new I can interchange a flow-game with layers for review Grab expectorants and coughing up the rhetorics Betters get the scepters with the lessers in protectorates Liquored and lacquered and putting symbols on paper Less Steinbeck more Tom, Colin, Nicholson Baker Walking, talking to myself reviewing future conversations Baby I was sick before, and this is my remission statement I like the people who can never stop thinking And there’s a galaxy of things that I gotta make peace with I’m tryna profess that I’m tryna progress And impress the folks who askin who I’m tryna impress 23, in his youth never lost and afraid Always dotting his way watching for comments and plays Jokes had all fell away but most would cough at his name He spoke in scholarly phrase - Noah Caldwell Gervais And known to hop on the bass and often holler at dames In ways they didn’t understand, working all for the day When every populace my property to properly place So come cooperate or cop yourself a coppery taste - way

Gamestop goth girl in a voodoo state Babe I want to introduce you to my YouTube page I gotta ask how a boy’s gonna woo you babe And how Helen of Troy has got an UWU face Blue jeans and brown hair I knew peace it’s out there But new thesis, now scared you’ll used me but how dare Some newbie without prayers of groupies come doubt fair J’accusing, without pair no beauty, I’m downstairs Whether we’ll be pie-in-the-sky or learning to live without Truth is that our triumph or loss is already written out Now we’re racing for it, and maybe in two directions. But why can’t a man reason himself into true affections? Been guessing your Semaphore methods or metaphors - stop Got temperature - dropped Winter’s coming down the mountain getting colder all the time The account of how I met you I’m beholden to revise My conversation pieces can foster strange encounters And no, I didn’t fall so much as saunter vaguely downwards I want to make it count first And every time we meet we seem to drop another obstacle Say every other sentence that I thought this was impossible I’ve got to something optimal, I’m paranoid to lose you A narrow choice ensues so I there avoid my doom soon Joyful on a blue moon, but pay a cost do that I’m just surprised someone can stand me for as long as you have Winter’s here, darling, with my cave fortress already down To give us safe quarters from the spreading clouds We’re ready now but still my frayed cortex has been getting loud Adoring the aesthetic of your thorax in my pedipalps - I’m sorry, love Stand nearer by me, I don’t want you in the dark alone Or crushed if the ceiling should get defeated by the harsher snow Every time you leave my arms you’re bruising the crooks And with such beautiful looks you might have suitors in nooks And as the winter deepens I’ll be coming down with sick dreams The caves will start to darken as the thunderclouds afflict me And I think I can hear you somewhere out there giggling Love is the Plan the Plan is Death - shouts to Tiptree And after all your sweet words you forgave my silence I’m opaque at times and my domain is quiet Please stop listening, the cold makes me mindless I promise it’s not deeper than my mores for violence Growing with your patience and the ages and the breadcrumbs I dread much how fate can overtake me when you’re fed up And you’re pretty like the chiaroscuro of a smothered sunburst And now I wonder which of us can eat the other one first When I’m wide awake it’s hard to see you in my mind’s eye But I can hear your laughter while I’m staring at the night sky Barely through a skylight, eyes are on your waist Where Orion got displaced, I could die another day But if Jake were realistic I would walk and abide Cus all the cases and statistics simply not on my side And you’re covered in a cloud of the mayfly affections That may fly in six, seven, eight, nine directions And you’re pretty like the chiaroscuro of a smothered sunburst And now I wonder which of us can eat the other one first

My mind’s out in three or four places If I’m tired then I’ll be more creative Peeping each form serrated In my mindspace, each course debated To arrive late, resource deflated And the lines fade, recourse I’m racing On the highway, seeing what the signs say Crawling at a hundred miles an hour to my job Crawling and I’m listening to beats what a SOB Falling and I’m inching to asleep on the clock But as long as I can listen to the beat I devise tunes Thinking to myself, is this the beat I’ma die to? Twelve feet behind a yellow Jeep and the thought forms What if I could jump into his bumper going Mach 4? What if I kept driving when I came upon my exit And turned a missing person by the time I stop for breakfast? Time is not to mess with, need to settle when I spit so And take my foot back off the fucking pedal, man, that shit’s close! …Back to where it was Don’t need to crash and perish young I need to pass and share my love of Ekeing raps from air and blood From stones I grab and bury some What underneath my tearing lungs And lose my sight like James Joyce and Breathe my last in Paris slums We’re entering a slow zone We’re entering a slow zone Eyes straight ahead and I wouldn’t want to spin out but What would happen if I pressed my foot another inch down? How much electricity would need to travel down my arm To make my hand spasm and allow my car to pound the car Ahead of me I sound bizarre and people often sound alarms When I confound the hearts so now the art is down and dark more If every choice we make splits the universe in two parts then Every time a neural gate can open there’s a doomed car and I’m not too far from nearly crashing now - it’s something else My lack of self-control is merely averaged out through other selves I’m steadying my mind as my hands steers I don’t want people measuring survival rates in amperes Don’t want to do the Seventh Seal dance here And get some people puzzled at the snuffing of my scant years Break a plan, break a date, break a man, break away Break apart, break a vow, break a heart, break a leg Don’t suffer sordid sociopathy More conditioned OCD and morbid curiosity And what scares me more than the option of a stray strafe is that Other people operate the same way and say they don’t to save face.

[Verse 1] You seem well, head pressure is okay And I won’t let you call off, so let’s get into the stakes Sleep’s everything you want, next second you’re awake Get stepping on your way, the next question of the day You gotta lotta guests still in your receiving room And old emergencies are bleeding through Only luck keeps you alive in shit you’re weaving through What the fuck’s a writer who can’t even mind the ps and qs? I know that you’re not itching for an ending, Achilles But the chariot is nipping at your tendons, you feel me? You still haven’t figured out that life is a dance and You’re a frozen wallflower with his mind in a trance Time’s cruel, you’re submitting to its final demands “That’s guy’s cool but he’s got way too much time on his hands.” Lifeline on a can, string tied to a bumper If provided a chance you’d grind in advance and slumber Every other song’s about your latest regret Or something else you’ll see before you take your place with the dead Never change for the better, you better fake it instead The shit is bountiful because you’re gonna pay with your head You only get twenty-four, work can eat ten of ‘em Sleep takes five more, terms seem pessimal Don’t get a complaint about the hurt scream decibels How long ‘til you’re famous with your 13 Nebulas? [Hook x 2] Do whatever shit you have to do to overtake If you want to be the best you gotta move to motivate Take an hour or a life, it’s not difficult to see you Stealing energy, shit is just a difference of degree, Muad’Dib Get depressed once you threw the goal away If you want to be the best you gotta move to motivate Lose a load of days cruising on the road of age Students of the overrated soon to be the overplayed Now you got some shit finished in the minutes you allot And you been getting kinda calm, here’s some shit that you forgot Not sniffing for job, still got chapters to write Now your rent is overdue, gotta back up your drives And your car needs a grand now for fixing the suspension And still you’re spans out from a visit to the dentist You head out but forgot your keys, you’re locked out And you sit, not now is your wish, clock shouts in the mist [Verse 2] Remember your obligations and remember advice and Remember the right words and all the actions to try and Remember the whole course of the path of your life and Remember the long weekends? Now that shit was nice Think back in your prime when you could laugh at your pride And never slacken your spine, you’re never crafting the rhymes Amid the trash you would type, you never backed up a file And so it crashed and it fried and now there’s ash in a pile Remember to hold your face up in the mask of a smile And never let a person know about the spats in your mind And remember to drive perfect or your passengers die And oh, dear, what was that twitch up in the back of your eye? Is that shit your optic nerve or just the lid muscles? You know you’re always on the verge of busting this puzzle You know you need a proper dirge for all your big struggles Still you only mockin all your work and get your shit ruffled Forgetting the purpose yet you bettin it’s worth it Your head can hurt worse, just keep on messing in second person You need an opportunity to pluck at the seams, To let concatenation suffer and then fuck up your dreams Levity worked, changed your mind when Forced to fit heaven and earth in space provided And then, notwithstanding the verse, you’d ace the writing So hey, what’s an earlier grave to a late assignment? Mindless [Hook x 2]

I stole this flow from a guy who stole it from Samsa I don’t have any answers like the ocean breeze, I’m dancing in parking lots and eating free samples And I read books and chill because my TV got cancelled, oh yeah If I could I would’ve made my rap name Kid Eternity And always been on time because that shit would fit so perfectly But now I’m always late and I’ve been spitting drips of mercury But I guess I’ll be fine cus making new ones isn’t surgery Names I mean, KE was in Hit Comics 25 And when he said “eternity” then his thoughts would come alive And form some figure out of Western literature or history Who’d spit some words on his beliefs and disinter a mystery Or something, uhh, actually to be honest I don’t really read comics, I just want the power to de-bee bonnets And call up Shakespeare to bug him to repeat sonnets He never wrote, eat cheese on three-cheese omelets And never paying money for a service Coached by Carnegie and eat honey with Epicurus I’d have a thousand rappers up to deal with my songs And call up Chesterton and ask him how it feels to be wrong Shit’s like Fate/Zero it don’t matter who I’m fighting with Then chillin out with Kierkegaard like give the guy some vicodin I’m coming with some old school rules like Hammurabi And some of my none-too-few ghouls can grab a body Lamping in the gate between ideas and their shapes Bug catching, pinning wings in museum of your fates I’ll punch Joyce in the arm until he annotates the Wake And then refute his exegesis with some antiquated sages I’m a sempiternal existential horticulturist And hit the cornerstore and dip and climb aboard a Culture ship I’ll make your waifu real for eight grand and your soul And I probably should’ve mentioned that I’m damned and alone Cus Kid Eternity is really powered up by demons Who deluded him with chaos magic hell could be redeemed with A seldom evil genius in a red sash and mirrorshades Let’s grab the gear and play at death masks and hero games I’m summoning the worst and then absorbing all their properties The eight-pointed star of a Discordian chestomathy I’m not a pompous psycho I’m a psychopomp, guide you off When I say my magic word then try to dodge, time is on And paying no salaries making a rogue’s gallery The fleeting dissolution of life is my lone calvary Happy mad sorcerer, ignoring my pain In pastiche in bad portraiture - Dorian Gray But towards the end of time all my lore is in vain Wish that someone else’d choose all of the forms for a day I’m formless and gray - a man floating in the void Or a baby elder god hella choking on its toy So begins the noise

Before I battle I’ma hand you the Miranda rules Damn your crew’s quiet, never do shit like a panda do I’m breaking any fandom that I pander to And outweigh all the masters like Gargantua and Pantagruel I’m pretty bad at mixes and my shit’s raw, I cop to that, I shake hands with folks where a bitch got an autograph I don’t read shit that makes kids yawn, or hollaback At Pride and Prejudice, I’m more Pynchon and Palahniuk I’m not a hipster and I’m not a cool fixture Of the scene crowding in when we’re taking a group picture Lose it like Alhazred scripture with mad mutters Fuck writers with their own pics up on their back covers I don’t give my viewership to aggregation outfits That’ll turn a masterpiece into some aggravating soundclips I’m grabbing crazy found shit, I’m gladder to have found it That’s why I’m bump some music that I’m actually down with Going big on Soundcloud shit ain’t on his habit list I go over the edges like on greywater rapid trips I’m hopping onto what you little kids don’t know with Wooden delivery - popsicle stick joke flow I’m telling you that me and you are night and day And if you want to hang then we’ll be seeing who’s the spiderbait In school I never listened but I scored like Hermione And I’d have hidden gems without the dwarves undermining me Saying that I’m arrogant, I’m showing all the right signs Feeling like your feelings are superior to mine, fine Really never kneeling to this myriad of wise guys Period, getting too imperious for hindsight Those who question me are peons Rap Greg Bear I’ma make it big - Eon Humdrum bumping for the netizens deon- tologically running over Edisons - Elon, I’ve gotta be I’m not a English grad student with a coterie Of books - called poetic by people who don’t read poetry It looks like I’m well-read but mostly that’s the fantasists And weird fiction writers and books about time management Put my next three tapes into a bucket while I off squads Put the indie game into a dungeon like I’m Ross Scott And now the top dog gets a dark payoff Talk about the things you’ll never gonna release like Marc Laidlaw I don’t live for pay, if what I do ain’t given plays I’ll crash your dinner parties, fuck your lives up like Trip and Grace Cater to the most dope equator of the whole show And later he’s alone but he’s greater than supposed, though

Cosmic joke punchline But not the most prosocial sometime - one life - one try Forty dead for each person alive, come to some sign A million never existing for each step in the bloodline - unkind Identity is shaped by the mix of a magic moment One egg meets a million conflicting spermatozoa One chance for a name to be chosen off of a list Most people don’t get to exist, it’s the pits But if there’d been some kind of jostle or sneeze Instead of my novelist steez there’d be more novel debris But that man would have an egg in common with me Is that enough for us to have the same consciousness gleaned to the same constant degree? Would it be me with different thoughts or not me? Sometimes I feel people watching at my back and can’t drop free A trillion ghosts to every real person, it’s multiplicative Fuck I’m sick of it, come give me some stuff that isn’t this From the void a million different emissary infants For anything to have a state that shit is very twisted And everything that is has gone through Scylla and Charybdis And everything that isn’t might be somewhere very different A function of potentials to capacity Worldlines trace shapes in higher-dimensional tapestries Don’t ask me please, nature does the hard limits Dark physics give you so much greater than a star pittance - art’s image When I was in college I wanted the life nomadic Thought maybe I could have it - gutterpunkish self-serving A dozen weeks of research getting up to something well-versed and Wanted to be free except it wasn’t on the bell curve You can never know which road’s less traveled And that has made all the difference, hope since raveled Kid reading SF became precocious, dazzle them Metaphysics overcome with new rows of scaffolding And between all my selves each millenium flies Perceptual time, how many of me dead, how many alive If some atoms on accident reformed the shape of my brain At this moment, would my flow then be wayward the same? Would it be me with different thoughts or not me? Sometimes I feel people watching at my back and can’t drop free A trillion ghosts to every real person, it’s multiplicative Fuck I’m sick of it, come give me some stuff that isn’t this From the void a million different emissary infants For anything to have a state that shit is very twisted And everything that is has gone through Scylla and Charybdis And everything that isn’t keeps on whistling in the distance Somewhere else this song’s called Branches on the Tree of Time Less about the lost hours and chances of a rerevive But I thought that Borges would spark up an indie vibe with this And if I seem to blow then it’s simply my windy-mindedness Bothallchoractorschumminaround- gansumuminarumdrumstrumtrumInahumptadump waultopoofoolooderamaunsturnup - dude devolves to stuff That students call a bluff but you applaud - the fuck.

Vivisect the body politic, my blade erogenous It’s olly-olly-oxenfree, to scream that Jake’s eponymous Immoderate, and soon I roll over exhausted Man after my own heart, don’t know where I lost it But it takes more than dilemma games to topple my dreams The weird prisoner is running reciprocity schemes Type out twice then crossing lines I put up And writing dire odes in the folds of a giant book lung It’s good stuff, the hard heart tripe is impermanent But I can always carve sharp arcs inside of a tournament People claim to make fire raps, fuck, are you sure of it Cus I take monkey business bout as well as Arthur Jermyn did And trying to compose so I scatter off to find a pad Adderall and grimy tabs, caterwaul with maenads Slower but it’s close to undefeated when the heat sells You’ll know it in the moment when you see it like machine elves

The first time she said it he was laughing in disgust Now he’s practicing his stuff, she’s been nagging him for months Mr. Nine Tenths Right hit with anger and curse words Then one tense night hesitation can hurt worse And now time’s up for either of the two to walk it off He cares about her too much for that or maybe not enough Shovel in the garage ready, tarps and the alibis Heart beating loud, time starts, he’s about to cry Stops and now her eyes flash Whatever happens, don’t give into doubt when I thrash If you love me then give me what I deserve, love If you love me you’ll kill me before the world does Don’t finger-wag at her, she’s not a cyborg A dozen scars of overexcited men’s incisors In puberty she passed bad classes thinking of life force And passing and what people would sass an eye for an eye for Graduated soon, learned not to say “death fetish” In private hours she was up researching the best methods And now she’s laid out with him doing his best menace Impression, what’s a bad consequence to a wet crevice I’m guessing She’s curvaceous and pert He went to check again this morning and the grave’s undisturbed She’s feeling like her destiny is ordained No final warnings as a concession to foreplay No bridal mornings or trimesters or old age No time for mourning it’s high-pressure her soul aches A lost hour and she’s nearly crashed into climax He pulls out a knife wrapped up in plastic a night back And he stabs her, pleasure soaking in the pain And she writhes and feels life itself exploding from her veins And he knows that he’s to blame for the times that he took away He can’t look her in the eyes but he can’t bear to look away Then she freezes up in the joy and she knows the gestalt And she’s absolutely thankful and it’s nobody’s fault Trade an infinite moment for all her days in the sun There was a lovers’ communion and once it concluded then they were... one

Head low, I read the most, sent home with teacher-notes But I ace the tests, I’m the one kid they leave alone College-level eighth grade, my comprehension space-age Novels getting waylaid, I often need to change pace, I’m way late So what should I be doing in my lessons? I know that if I turned a total truant I’d be questioned My Gameboy would make noise incessant there Ain’t toys that make choices like this impressive - but wait If I’m getting super bored with all the placers of letters Then I can write my own words and I’ll make all them better Okay, wait, uh. How do you do that? It’s too bad that writing books is something that new at. Oh well, that’s life, I’m never off of the ambition hook Catch me with a pencil and a pocket composition book And I fill every page, I’m judging it overzealous And insisting it’s a book, cus I’m touchy about novellas And seldom doing anything but keeping on my gold plots Where me and all my friends fought with neo-Nazi robots Who ended the world and had animal heads for imagery I wrote book two but I couldn’t finish the trilogy High school, I’m starting up another book with superheroes Self-insert again, no critic I’m just too new to hear those It’s complex I’m writing out chintzy romantic subplots And I work on book two - this isn’t a man for oneshots But I’ve turned a little overaware of my shortcomings And the concept I was hoping to snare’s not forthcoming And none of this could ever get published, I’m more judging These pastures I should up and be done with for more sunning So I turn from full books to the subject of short stories By now I write at home so I’m published it’s so boring Not a man to reward that, plots to land in a morass Form rejections - what the heck is proper manuscript format? Now I’m planning to work fast and I’m proud of my shit Because I struggle to write words for an hour or six And get thirteen hundred, but sometimes becoming public Ten months of microfiction and I grind a hundred published I audition blogfiction oft getting lost in it Not in the top with the gods but I’m not dipping People say that word number million is a milestone At which you’re deemed not a civilian and you write gold Hardly want to mention that, starting at a tenth of that, But that one mark becomes a star in my attention fast Stories into blogs and onto dissertating essays To sonnets-cycles woven for exhilarating mesdames To fanfiction novels that are actually novel-length To the very raps that I can pass into my novice tapes Now I’m just a sliver from the goal that I had courted then And instead of half a thousand words a day I can do four or ten And sometimes all my characters will talk to me Pushing through time til I inherited the prophecy But I’ve turned a little overaware of my shortcomings And the concept I was hoping to snare’s not forthcoming And none of this could ever get published, I’m more judging These pastures I should up and be done with for more sunning

I’m seeing by the light of other days, I’m trying now to write another page Or to light another flame in the bellows People walk up at my job and saying hey, I say hello, then they squint their eyes and ask if I’m okay I’ll trade lyrics for concepts, I’m not all here at the onset I’m not really a profit-able portfolio option More Malvolio often getting booted off of the proud path Less Hennessy more Nephele - fuck it, dude, I like cloud rap I broke my car outside a town named Accident Outre rapping writing outtake passages Keep on, better actions appear to me Delete songs, retroactive conspiracy Then I’m passing through judges and find terminus Tick tock travel and trucking in time turbulence (()) And dipshits ain’t charted this Can’t see me like they didn’t flip a marker switch Artist in his brain knew no sign of caution, he’s Part of every wave - New, No, Sine or Gaussian Started in the game - you won’t find he’s nauseous but Pardon all the tapes - he’s too blind to toss em (()) Unlikely to drop what he sang upon More likely for slop to invade his songs And to get small pockets of hangers-on Sad flow, lost lockets and anger probs Hovering at average but banging on For summoning a dragon - Clanger mom And every couple years I get a message from the universe Like wash behind your ears and resurrect the dead on Jupiter And all the things that you internalize are worse than without We’ll see who uses hands first, make a firsthand account It’s cliche to say that I’m a villain on mics, but I’m Riding in the Kuiper and chilling on Tyche I write until I snap the pen, 1AM to 1AM and back again Do I sleep? often that depends Until the end of time, I’ll be spilling the blood to upraise And I’ll smack the ones who back in the head for a month of Sundays - this one fades