library walk cube

I had a million things to think about when I had a half an hour break on campus, and also, it seemed, a gazillion things to do in my mental to do list. Instead, I sat down on a cube on library walk, and sprawled myself out with my ipod and notebook to journal -- I came up with fifteen rap lines. My training in poetry, at least at this school, consisted of consuming works of extinct, white modernists. For that reason, sometimes I’m insecure about producing current, street hip hop rhyme. Funny how both forms are still poetry that pays attention to syllable and meter, just that the delivery and performance of it makes the distinction. Anyway, on that gray granite cube, I realized that I had been neglecting to do the one thing that keeps me sane and at peace with the world. Which is writing.

I’m chillin’ at the school
Where I bend rigid rules
Trippin off my power
Thinking of the trip
When times are hard as steel
I wanna yoke & dip
The dip is like butter
Yet my roads ain’t been smooth
Sometimes I swear if I were a dude
My problems would dissolve
I’d have physical prowess
Like an underground duchess
You don’t wanna know bout me
Reality I can’t rely I rely on trees
The haze is my shit
Confusion is my theme
When I sit and right this shit is serene