connecting*the*dots

some days are just like the last
one moment you’re slow, the next moment you fast
forward two years
beyond the transition gears
late night fears
early morning tears
you up to get down
with your whip bumping through town

dropping off the clown’d

still going round and round
about time
the project is straight
we organized the wait
off the world
we stopped, dropped and rolled on a dime
the three man weave was something to save-
or
the bassline screen freed up the man-
or
the dribble, drool and school rocked the D to sleep

broken ankles cause reactionary heaps

piles form left and right
100 breakdowns form without the sight
stumbling out to fight the win’d
stunned
shunned
run’d…

shoot for five
my man has my spot
i’m out to be alive