deepundergroundpoetry.com
.:The Irregular Perpendicular Countdown of Young Men:.
Me, the crew
We up on The Corner camped
Up under that broken street lamp
Seeing, feeling it
Those surreal bits of blight
All this whilst holding onto the night
Our hourly thoughts
None of 'em at all quite right, but
The Homeboys and me
We holding onto ‘em real tight
Steady on the lookout for snakes trying to bite
Just saying..
Once.. twice maybe they’d peep us
But know for sure
We’d certainly peep them trying to creep us
Each of us a loyalist son
We’re out here ‘till the night is done
Tight gloved hands resting but not lazy
This corner for sure ain’t gonna be any maybe
Sleeping? No, that’s crazy. We’re never caught
We're doing all that The Corner taught
See.. when it’s bleak
Vicious punks tend to creep
But we always expect not to
neglect them situations
Our intuitions start to detect their covert missions
Frequently forecasting foes willing to blast
But know this... We the kind who’s trained to maintain and outlast
Without doubt we’re into the upmost in concentration
So screw them or anyone else..
Anyone interested in any dubious aggression
They too can catch a lesson
See.. Little ‘Troy, Roy, each of ‘em
Each working our spot like an all out savior
On this corner watch, they stays on guarded behavior
Got that hand; got it low to they waist
In the background without sound
Ready to reach without haste
Security? They’s onna no breach type ‘o case
Because on the real, them creeping cats always trying to take your place
You know the ones. Them cats who just can’t keep pace
See what we do and how we do is directly or indirectly related to what is or what might not be true...
Like what?…what’s true??
This place and what we’re supposed to do???
You know with what’s bold
There’s always an emboldened few..
And most times that’s something we can’t help but face
But it’s what we do on the regular all around this place
Calling it.. The Irregular Perpendicular Countdown of Young Men
Like regularly skipping school by the age of 1O
Shortly followed by a 9mil trading 4 + 4 shots with an unlucky 7
Whereas the thinking is to bailout on heaven
It’s a given; stupid nonsense without a 6th sense
Yeah, the ‘ish, it can get real intense
Creepy young men creeping in..
Soon to be known as those Unlucky Gents
They must’ve been rolling up laced
Good sense would’ve told ‘em this wasn’t the place
Goin after it treacherously absent of a Winner’s Ace
So five, they get hit...hits directed to they face
Wherein a scary 4, they rollout fast
Rolled out so fast.. Must’ve happened that way before
And just like that, blasted were three more
Then it’s two; then it’s
Who’s next and we’re almost done
For these freelancing fools there weren’t gonna be any fun
Whereas the lead one, him dropped his gun
Now them gents their whole-sum-less.. looking at a Negative Zero
That’s how the night shades another would-be-hero
And sometimes that’s just the way it go
Rolling up on what you think..
instead of what you know
Published 27th Nov 2014
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