Dull vibrations.
The flutter of screen doors.
She calls you stubborn.
Her name blends in exhale
like a pathogen.

If I slept for seventeen years,
what else would we do
but nosh & repopulate
the thick air?

Buzzfeed says, “Season well,
fry in vegetable oil.”

Not for me.

But I understand the urge
to swallow a flight,

to inherit a leap from dirt.


I'm coming
back again &
back again &
back again &
back again &
back again
I'm back to win
& back again
& back again
I'm back to win
& back again


From the dirt I rose,
with my third eye closed.

From the dirt I rose,
with-with-with my third eye—

Yeah, it's been a minute, but I'm back in attack mode.
I've been doing laps on the back of a tadpole.
Been a minute, been a minute, but I'm back though.
Need to put a seal on the crack in the castle.
Moron, got a cap and a tassel.
Taboo, but I packed the Tabasco.
Bring it bring it back, bring it back though
‘til your backbone getting thrown,
now you're buried in a catacomb.
Got to leave the gat alone,
got to bring the batter home.
Had a bone to pick, but now I'm out of bones.
Bring it bring it back, bring it back though.
I'm a tad gone, I'm an asshole, but I pass go and collect.
Homie, I deserve my respect.
Better yet I'm coming for your neck.
You can bet
that I bring it bring it back, bring it back though.
ct the back door with backpack full of mad hope.
What a sad trope.
Get the cap open,
I'm back home.
Matter fact,
you can bring it bring it back though,
bring it back.


I'm coming
back again &
back again &
back again &
back again &
back again
I'm back to win
& back again
& back again
I'm back to win
& back again