Unedited Entrance to Work Tonight

Unrehearsed  
 
5 Minutes to Listen  
 
Preamble as I ramble:  
 
Supposed to remain behind the scenes  
Waiting for the coffee, so I won’t get mean  
No trouble so far, against the bar I lean  
 
I try to avoid coming downstairs  
Supposed to be running shit from up there  
Eyes in the sky  
But I don’t play for disguise  
I figure everyone in this business  
Who’s with it  
Sees what I do in my eyes  
 
Besides, I’m a shadow holder  
Everyone who matters knows I roll for sure  
Second year here, same game to shoulder  
Second year looking forward to more  
Second year trying hard not to think about the bookstore  
Wish Border’s had never closed  
THERE was a good geek family that showed  
 
This industry is colder  
They trust me but not as their soldier  
I just proved honesty every day over  
 
I’m on this festivity scene where no one is sober  
But so far separate, seeing over everyone’s shoulders  
So re-joining the humans can be as warm as arms to fold over  
 
Or a sore alarm like Thanatos being played easily  
Slayed to his knees  
Hades taken over in a blitzkrieg spree  
Until none could die and the world overran with disease  
Tricking victory uselessly like ubiquitous grooves tossed to just confuse  
 
As one lexicographer said to the other “Your best offering to the world sir? Is quite abstruse.”  
 
More armed than the one who alarmed and played Hades and Thanatos in a quick rush  
I get bliss gushes like King Sisyphus  
 
And over the shoulder for every flow I roll the boulder  
As such  
 
Honesty and humility  
On this scene that’s the real me  
Not the thrill of me  
Showing right and wrong in every stance  
Instead of playing for the song and dance  
 
Remaining trustworthy  
In the entertainment industry  
And just barely making it  
For cheddar in surveillance  
 
There’s little glory or bliss  
Beriddled in the stories that oversit  
That’s just work though, just some shit  
Here’s the main roar of this:  
Arrive early  
Head set right, unworried  
Red eyes? Clear and true  
Accuvue drops  
Antihistimine as well  
 
Means the gaze doesn’t stop  
This maze has minotaurs topped  
I blazed it so I’m in to soar and pop  
 
Unfurled to spree  
Unworried I’m so early  
Throw a cold flow over the shoulder  
On my way in because I’m far from sober  
 
Nothing rhymed until dinnertime  
I kept a clear unwinding path in my mind  
Lent my best to bless  
Cleared my lid  
Spent my morning  
Warmly wrestling with my kids  
 
One’s got low white blood cell count  
That affects her like anemia, round for round  
Low bone marrow, unknown, chances narrow  
I could go on for hours, but fuck it, I’ll spare you for this flow  
 
I told my youngest daughter I’d become a doctor  
 
Since no other rock star of medicine  
From everywhere we’ve been led in  
Knows what’s the fuck’s wrong and slight  
With her red and white  
Count  
 
For another round?  
Fuck it, I’m in pound for pound.  
Promised her if no one else could solve the mystery ontology  
I’d get quick and clear the biology.  
Invest my head in self-lessons.  
 
No escaping this maze?  
Fuck FATE!  
Like Moses supposed and Muhammad got on to roll that shit japes for mere mortals!  
I’ll stake some more for MY soul!  
Awakening to a mountain of student loans already to fold.  
So fuck that way, I’ll lay waste on Education Portal.  
No fear there’s always a way in and more to hold  
Slay and spin and before you unfolds  
Days to win and implore a roll.  
 
And if the escape so narrow?  
Isn’t enough to make it in time to spare her yo?  
Fuck it, she can have my white blood  
It runs tight and survives mud  
And to share some more to grow  
I don’t mind cracking open  
Her bio-dad’s marrow!  
Call it faith willing  
If he falls off the face of a building  
 
Cause then it HAS to match his daughter  
And if he 5% SURVIVES the blotter  
They HAVE to use the bone fodder  
And legally I CAN’T thus be held for manslaughter  
 
Lay it on as I should  
Playing flexible like palm tree wood  
That’s just how we bomb it in the neighborhood  
Oh and for this sort of layer  
If this shit comes up in court later?  
The American Justice System is a Just Us joke layed in by players!  
Transcribe THAT for your non-disclosure waiver!  
 
So teaching myself at night  
Reaching for wealth to gain  
For every fright  
 
Each mission slices for honor  
To go far beyond and respond  
For what is sure, what blurs, what matters and stirs  
To divide and conquer  
 
Sparking off what pops  
That was just parking lot talk  
Winding into the building with stealth  
Rhyming to myself  
 
Relieving the boss for a 10 hour overnight shift. I left family time for this. Extended family time.  
 
Got to work early. Coffee must’ve been made last night. Smelled like last week. Took the carafe downstairs to the bar. 5 minutes to brew a whole pot. Smoked some earlier, but it won’t matter. Not here. Besides, this is work. I may be required to remain behind the scenes, but everyone remembers Chinese New Year’s. And last week. The week before. If I’m faded, the ladies may stop and ask for massages and slow me down, but nobody will fuck with me.  
 
For those interested in racial profiling, here’s a race tip that genuinely applies in most cases:  
 
If the comrade is brown, let them freely roll around  
Don’t ambush them and go to town  
And call that mock beat-down  
Some jock feat to clown  
Some man-ritual to complete and pound  
 
Slam bitches and fists to pound?  
 
You slitches find every way to hide vicious cut-downs.  
 
Race Case, real fast, fuckers.  
Look at a Comrade’s face  
If it’s brown and open?  
Black and hard?  
Red and hoping?  
Tanned and scarred?  
 
Don’t think you can play the physical jest card  
When you play to pump your chest hard  
We GREW UP on hidden bitch-out games  
And you misbegotten, miseducated and forgotten  
“Which way to clout?” lames  
Distinctly lack the instinct to reframe  
When to get the fuck out of a tiger’s lane  
 
It isn’t a mythical blessed part  
Instinct’s hidden visuals aren’t like wild west cards  
Collaged into a montage like Tarantino shards  
Sharing lean rows of scenes marred.  
 
That’s not experience hard.  
That’s Quentin’s discretion as an editor leering and jarred  
By his mirror-twin alter-ego  
Drizzle-slurping, puke-and-rage circling,  
Luke Cage hero worshipping brain  
Angled in back and forth frames  
From the direction of cocaine  
 
But then, my opinion could change  
I slay that bit now  
And say that shit just off the brow  
But I’ve yet to watch Django Unchained  
 
In other words, if my face is peaceful  
And the rhythmic space of my feet roll  
Like your mother down a liquid teak greased pole  
Steady and alive without limits  
Ready to jive for just 5 minutes  
I’m heady to drive.  
45 verses later I won’t be finished!  
 
Check the face to clown before you drunken jack-asses choose this one to punk and act fast.  
I don’t practice with axes, sticks, hatchets  
Just to fabricate facts and hack gack.  
I’m ready with machetes to roll and spare none!  
Like Voltaire daring to run…  
 
“I don’t agree with a single word you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”  
 
…In other words, for fast fun?  
What’s outlasting in my action is far past despair.  
…I don’t shiver when you stare.  
The quiver on my back is a bag of bombs to spare.  
…But what I deliver is on the spot,  
Hot to rock,  
So fuck your solid brass pair.  
 
…Retime every hook,  
Others carry rhyme books?  
This brother shares a bomb bag.  
…Practice looks like something to match for crooks,  
Because improv is what improves…  
…Grooves insanity’s every nook and cranny…  
…MAKE ME YOUR TARGET YOU WILL WISH I REACHED INTO THE BAG YOU SLAGS CAN’T STAND ME!  
 
 
Listened to 6 drunks try to play smooth with the new barkeep for 4 1/2 minutes while I waited for my coffee. She busted their chops for being in the bar every night. They tried busting back. Running game. Back and forth. Money was being made. They were losing it faster in the bar then they would be elsewhere. Barkeep prattled, let them think their lame innuendos were stirring her. Kept slinging beer, avoiding every escalating phrase, every door-opening chop, every corner to round, every joke to swerve and somehow rework into something sexual to blurt. The last word was the only one that worked. Blurt. These boys had money. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t. Money to burn. Money doesn’t buy skill. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m supposed to be upstairs. Doesn’t matter. I’m just watching TV. Waiting for 5 minutes to brew.  
 
I get the barkeep’s attention. She tells me there’s a minute left on the carafe. I feel the air change. Know it was a bad idea. This isn’t SoCal. These guys aren't players. Any one alone would end up in 6 dumpsters in 6 hours in Long Beach.  
 
These fuckers see me.  
 
The hair down to my waist.  
The burnt sienna skin.  
The swaying, grooving, flowing,  
 
Water over stone,  
Nothing bothering,  
Nothing showing,  
Ahead of the bullshit,  
A headful of quick quips,  
No stress to roll,  
Mid-air like a kestrel.  
Sparked to bless  
Quarks to explode from farthest space  
Carving grace  
Marked by some of the best flow  
Smart and collected from the Wild West's  
Hazily  
Crazily  
Sparked without pity  
Like Dark City  
Daily re-made  
Scarred check your WHOLE WORLD TEST!  
 
These fuckers know  
That if they step to show  
In 5 minutes or less yo  
These lads are in MY bag!  
 
No they don’t.  
   
Not these slags.  
They don't know a manly spree  
They can't handle ch'i  
Or get entangled in the kundalini  
And send it back in a waking dream or three  
They get riled in dysfunction  
Their shit stopped up like unction  
For flits of style over substance  
ALL they can feel  
Is the steel from a full mag  
 
And yet still, they're set to test their will?  
 
So desperate to get fragged.  
 
These fuckers call that shit “Swag”.  
 
I hate how fake this place can be. I hate this industry. I hate the words. Swag isn’t how my body moves. Swag is what the after dark crews cut up on the docks back home. Swag is what’s in the trucks that deliver to the bodegas that don’t charge you tax on anything. These fuckers though, couldn’t break all that down.  
 
They saw swag. I shouldn’t have gotten the barkeep’s attention.  
 
I’m not a 9 on the 10 scale,  
But that shit doesn’t matter.  
There’s fewer than 9 of them,  
So fuck what they entail.  
They’re shit out of luck  
And the first who steps up  
Steps into my jail.  
 
A quick lesson to bless for those who’ve never been in this situation…  
 
Sometimes chodes just have to take out the competition,  
To claim the alpha male position.  
If you’re not after that vision?  
You’re parked in their sights  
As the choice target to put in a vice  
Slice you up right to make you a little one.  
 
Instinct hasn’t misled me hence.  
I knew it the moment I stepped in the bar.  
Hardest challenge would be getting out of here without 9 rounds to spar.  
I’m not in this scene to claim glory or find fear.  
It’s not my main story that EVERYONE remembers Chinese New Year’s.  
Supposed to keep shit clean, stay lean, remain behind the scenes, yo.  
That's the hard ride, darkside to working in a corrupt casino.  
 
The other is the gleam that shows.  
This place is a human zoo.  
Every night it blows.  
This afternoon I promised for good a wish  
My youngest daughter whom I share no blood with  
That our lives would rock for sure  
One day I’d be a doctor  
I’d be the one to stop what could drop her  
 
But now? Now I’m early on the clock for sure  
Listening to these cocky curs  
Drop lines that are rich in shit  
And stick like cockleburs  
 
I wish I didn’t have the vision  
Claiaravoyant missions  
Wish I didn’t know they already made their decision  
To snort rails  
Laugh and drink pails  
Chase tail  
Make it a race-case when playing for Alpha Male  
Frames  
With played out games  
 
Too much to mock in my tomes  
But that’s what happens when your testosterone  
Is off the rocker and drops in more than one zone  
Like yoga mastered by Mr. Spock and re-woven  
I rock this throne because hard spots are where I’ve been prone  
Since I was a young buck to play  
Thrown away set to learn on my own back in the day  
 
So a rare parasympathetic response  
Shares frenetic bombs to drop  
Ahead of shit when ganj gets my flying for more  
High levels of T4  
Lillith adored  
Will to fire for more than a verbal strafe war!  
 
You fuckers aren’t safe anymore!  
I tried to avoid this!  
I didn’t ask for clairavoyance!  
I didn’t ask to be your target!  
Just stick to the barkeep with the hips!  
 
She swishes and deflects and collects tips  
I sit and lean and wait for my coffee to sip  
I can’t exactly stack up how to overstand  
That these jack-asses back-up plan  
Includes attacking what they HOPE is a LESSER man  
 
SCOPING for a BETTER plan?  
I was quick and clean to that trip  
When I was fifteen and not so hip  
 
Now, even TOTALLY FUCKING BLAZED  
In a rolling fully to tuck and roll play  
So high I’ve got clouds forming all around me  
So fly and loud from South Orange County  
 
These wry fools play a game I knew in high school and all the same drop their jests MY WAY without restraint?  
 
I wasn’t arrested for defense at work  
On Chinese New Year’s  
So I can attest if no one is physically hurt  
This one is guaranteed to run clear  
 
Holding back, showing no fear  
They’re drunk, not bold, their jeers?  
Run under par, vunderbar!  
 
Now I’ll HAVE to hold my cards back  
When I’d RATHER hurdle tracks  
For plenty of unfriendly attacks  
Like the twenty smacks  
Of Cyrano de Bergerac!  
 
Can’t humiliate them too fast  
In this place THEY'RE the players,  
With layers of fat stacks  
Sure.  
And it’s OUR wager that they part with that.  
These fucking capers run so flat.  
 
I ramble and amble, but fuck it.  
This scene blows.  
I don’t even gamble; I fucking hate casinos!  
 
Every 3 lines to the barkeep  
Is a spree of badly timed jabs and jars to peep  
Like they can freely blurt  
And expect that pee-in-the-snow style calligraphy  
To fill her with glee when they flirt  
When by far these sheep  
Starstruck dribbling game that sucks between stained teeth?  
So slow on their feet?  
 
Keep seeing the time  
For every 3rd lines  
One turns around and sends a missive  
Dismissive to diss me that I'm supposed to mind  
 
I mind the lack of gusto  
To trust and roll underlining  
In their grime  
The lack of theme in their crime  
The lack of steam in the mean vines  
Entangled because these local yokels have no timing  
 
But for every three lines invested to the barkeep to jest  
Is one played over to me to test  
 
Always a drunken question  
Some punks have open threats in  
Others pretend to open with inflection  
Just to shut down the response as an interjection  
 
Bother to call over like a Godfather  
Shut down the other son with indiscretion?  
Yeeeeah, high school game all over again…  
Does that shit EVER get women wet some?  
 
I’m keeping every response on topic  
Lean, monosyllabic  
Clean, purging the sex from shit  
Like gleam from detergent in the mix  
Because the steam is all just under the current  
But still runs urgent to split  
 
I could rock the spot but I'm used to this roll  
Playing cockblock and turning it neutral  
 
But for 4 1/2 minutes?  
I’m getting sore past limits.  
They just won’t stop  
I’m not being sycophantic or silent  
Just sparing them from my antics or violence  
 
It’s different in the mix  
Those on the payroll aren’t safe from my roll  
But this is the casino  
And these fuckers are SUPPOSED to be players so I stay in control  
Besides, it’s no direct insult yet  
So no Hulk rage frets  
 
They’re just…  
Trolling to tip my crown  
Show they can trip a clown  
And rip a homie down  
 
Race card to play and face hard:  
If you’re looking for a target to mark and impress a chica with your shards  
Don’t expect to stress the brown!  
Sometimes my zen mentions  
I extend my attention  
And get a headful in 10 seconds  
 
These unfriendly boys  
Unendingly annoyed  
Drunks leaving blundering, frustratedly  
Dispersing down to the remaining 3  
They're still wondering why SHE'S flirting with ME!  
 
You stupid fuckers don’t even see  
You’re drunk and loopy it isn’t sex you see  
It isn't flirtation with ease  
It. Isn't. Me.  
She’s still just telling me about the coffee  
30 seconds left  
Flirty beckoning bereft?  
 
If this were elsewhere, yes  
But this lean show  
Is still the casino  
I’m supposed to stay behind the scenes yo  
So I’m keeping it pro  
Clean, like I’m nobody you need to know  
 
But she’s on a wired track  
So when she turns around to fire back  
And I can’t help but laugh  
 
Down to 3  
These cowards are now brave enough for me  
They heard the sound of this  
And circle to get me front-surrounded  
Such ass-blasters.  
You’re in a crescent in front of me?  
You poor bastards!  
 
I can’t help it the barkeep was fast  
She made me laugh  
 
Lead drunk sees a bead to make me his punk.  
His first shot might've had a TREE stumped.  
 
(A slow one)  
 
“What are you laughing at?”  
 
A rare parasympathetic response dares to give credit to moving on but these rude toys crudely annoy.  
I feel robbed when I listen to this.  
And so I share levels of cognitive dissonance.  
Like Daredevil’s assistant.  
Froggy Nelson.  
Off the fog and well-spun.  
Stepping into Riker’s to do the right thing on his own gumption.  
 
(Riddle of lore, that was from Marvel's Civil Wars. Please read it. It's worth every last chapter of the publication.)  
 
 
I’m spry and set for a shot to shut  
Like rotgut,  
A tight zing  
Like white lightning going down,  
Flowing from what I found.  
 
So assholes who gasp at  
The vastly shocking fact  
That you can't provoke me to react  
DON'T FUCKING ASK WHAT I WAS LAUGHING AT!  
 
Under the gun I come undone  
My jests are SPUN PRECURSORY  
And thus far?  
I was QUIET son!  
I was showing you MERCY  
 
Sorry…. comrades… you weren’t asking for all of that.  
I’m just being honest and sharing what was on my mind between the words  
“Laughing”  
And the word “at?”  
 
The way the dialogue ACTUALLY ran was  
 
“What are you laughing at?”  
 
Loki strolls closer. Crescent starts to close. Remaining drunks are now trapped between a metal bar and the wood bar, forced to maintain my gaze.  
 
“I always laugh at a class act.  
When I can sit and listen to a quick one  
Run your expectations of gain  
Back from her deflection game.  
When there was several of you,  
And all wanted to get it on  
Her game was only bronze.  
Because it only had to be.  
When it was down to 3,  
You guys just HAD to have some  
So she ran her wit for platinum.  
And then just now your boys scattered some.  
 
So I laughed.  
 
Because it was like watching a street racer with two-tone rims. He’s on his feet and just plays outside, watching in.  
And then claims everyone’s money on one win.  
It’s called a sleeper car.  
You guys were creepers by far.  
And she held BACK!  
SHE HELD BACK HER WIT FOR ALL OF IT!  
So I laughed at that.  
Anyways, so that’s my day, but I’m only down here for coffee, so what’s up with you?  
What’s your play?”  
 
Remaining drunk drank his beer. And another. I left with my coffee. Clocked in 10 minutes early.