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I’m dressed in ghost meat
yeah, snapping like crab legs
file type to beat
convert a rich text to jpeg
glitter bomb is unisex
plié, yeah, off a marble ledge
in a business park
caution tape, yeah, on a safe bet
hetman of love poems
gone rogue
deserter in California rain
with mildewed prose
writing about rapping inward
rapping about these classist clothes
omnivorous eyes balk atop
my separatist nose
corporality, raiment
epaulettes in legality
solicitor and estate in plurality
do undersign
going the fuck off on time
on the rhyming apparatus, flag staff
per measure commanded
I’m dressed in ghost meat
yeah, snapping like crab legs
file type to beat
convert a rich text to mpeg
elbow grease is unisex
oil change off a marble ledge
in a business park
house chips, yeah, on a long bet
adroit on Detroit
when I became human
off Wilshire, turmeric, and cumin
since my knee healed from “blewing”
well, drank the bluing
and then I shined my shoes then
drew a portrait from a sound bath
just an image pool man
flicked at the floating bubbles
shorting the crash futures
past life of a rom file
emulating movement
in long hand in
a kiln fire on computers
carving from the clay
another neolithic rebooter
I’m dressed in ghost meat
yeah, snapping like crab legs
file type to beat
convert a rich text to dot wav
sour dough is unisex
giving rise off a marble ledge
in a courtyard
deleting all my email threads
desnudo in a rootnote
lofi in a high chair
colloquiums to babbled smoke
states’ rights to legal dope
desirous of monoxide
watching these editors blindly
misquote in air quotes
see, the talent buyers went and
bought the untalented
and the justice was at the salad bar
weighing the scales of a ballad
the talent buyers went and
bought the untalented
and the justice was at the salad bar
weighing the scales of a ballad
I’m dressed in ghost meat
yeah, snapping like crab legs
file type to beat
convert a rich text to crosshairs
hipfire unisex
quick draw off a marble ledge
in a courtyard
birthing subgenre
from safe sex
mothafucka!
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ol’ silver spoon mouth in a
one bedroom or studio
cutting cuticles, cauterizing
in liquid boron, mercurial
make a fedora from
human leather
e-wallet, mid-town drone
convenience getter
’til the walls become derivative functions
the limits of which human necessity engenders
whereas wherewithal is codswallop
hydraulic chicano aeronautics
cultural marxists hopping out starships
frotting with a lesbian
at sister liberal arts colleges
open carry with the strap-on
first page the original clickbait
teleology to a twitter farm
with a world run on syntax
grammar police with sticks
and words as gendarmes
protectionist clauses
special counsel as the new school for law
Manhattan Atlantis, rainforest web service
funneling resources to
bourgeoisie exoplanet
got saved by Matt Damon
and free life hacks
haplotype hazmat
white saviordom without the baggage
caloric intake of fermented cabbage
the gastrointestinal fibromyalgia of this
free associative asshat
you ol’ silver spoon mouth in
your one bedroom or studio
you know?
when pigs fly in air force one
and clouds rust from hydrogen
confirming drone-dropped orders
of new cabinets
bastille techs
surveil-state utopias
and no necks, no spines, inveterate invertebrates
union exits in French
anglophile in turnstile
books on vinyl as classist
archival access only for top percentile
time capsule inscrutable
from era without unedited primary sources
schizophrenic character limits
and boundaries seen from orbit
in space shuttle data entries
district of Columbia hegemony
disintegrating in mid 90s troposphere
nostalgia for any airs unclear
well, long as the clutch precedes the gear
ol' silver spoon mouth in
your one bedroom or studio
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when the bachata syncs up
to Peter Gabriel putting up shots
coconut raspado with a thumb of Maker’s Mark
typical food-fueled LA hotspots
tzatziki on Pico, souvlaki pupusa on the block
revising recipe of women, weed, and weather
to non-gendered mescaline
dripping through a rain catcher
the socialite supercluster
on whatever bus line
class warfare wielding a
silicone injector
step-back, left wing, 3-point line
drain the pumpkin down
through the main line
a crass reference to a biological imperative
dihydrogen oxide filtered between legs
Hardaway at Carl’s Jr on 10 on-ramp
sealed genie in lamp under skin of Neverflat
regional section rings and orange waffle cones
ice on a neck in drought in dry bones
between 3B and 3C in the key, loose ends
plot points and heterotrophic headphones
screw the coach and other nasal authorities
non-marking soles, auction blocks, and tournament fees
I kept my amateur status after whole knee shattered
sympathy mail sent from iPhone: “Black Joints Matter”
fuck it, still got buckets, American-made
candy-painted, vertical rim job, flushes illustrious
4th quarter incontinence, hock spit to clear thrushes
I was a defense contractor flagrant with the flails with no touches
(come on man!)
you know I’ma leave y’all in that possession for a minute
just to understand, you know what I’m saying, what was said
when the bachata syncs up
to Peter Gabriel putting up shots
coconut raspado with a thumb of Maker’s Mark
typical food-fueled LA hotspots
tzatziki on Pico, souvlaki pupusa on the block
revising recipe of women, weed, and weather
to non-gendered mescaline
dripping through a rain catcher
I eurostepped on the west side
before Griselda
felled dioecious giants
in a helter-skelter
scrimmaged so as to pillage
highlights of food and shelter
manicured URLS
internal clock, yeah, vuvuzela
Romare Bearden klaxon
in the back court
cutting through the flares and flashes
but didn’t ask for it
and MMO rocket propelled
into a task force
reporting on the workings of
athletic nerdy Black boys!
arthroscopic exercise
minimally invasive with all the meditations
precocious floaters to the top of
lunch time elucidation
ayo, we talking about practice?
see I been anti-disciplinary
bespoke with all the actions
yeah, I been getting it right
flexing the work and the send-offs
with no return address
when the bachata syncs up
to Peter Gabriel putting up shots
coconut raspado with a thumb of Maker’s Mark
typical food-fueled LA hotspots
tzatziki on Pico, souvlaki pupusa on the block
revising recipe of women, weed, and weather
to non-gendered mescaline
dripping through a rain catcher
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and then my mutterings became adultery
diphthongs caged in low fidelity
to study to
speech muddied through
prescriptions unfilled
enteric coat of gild
the press were powder room reviews
flooding after another in twos
I was accessible
beyond reasonable doubt
speaking in my enamored in my clout
jeopardized by the mass amount
had a DJ with front-facing appeal
indentured engineer
a formula with a seal
I spat drugs for white men
shucked and jived
with ample ken
blurred lines with means
as much as a ray-traced end
and the beats, the beats were breaks
that I dared not bend
and all the hammers cock in 4k
my two-way window was a gateway
my man of color mumble
turned pop culture rough and tumble
the qwerty keys mashed in stereo
the bag, the bag, the bag
I nurtured and fumbled
the careerist races music
the taste loses
gains high bias prejudice
recorded to film in-house
while moving—
listen stupid
these are not your friends
this is not the style over the substance you snorted
this life is a consecutive run on
sentence, full of em dashes
with smudged consonants
the whole in my consequence was bottomless
my pocket burned with banknotes
on scenes of corporate scripts
and I said yes
I gave consent
when I shouldn’t have
to my rights,
likeness
the very self cultivated
from my own experience
memories
my own sinews
sweat
my voice…
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candy-painted slab commandments
geriatrics hand standing, dilated
off old republic socials
compulsory, ethno-religious, and boastful
your mythos is un-interrogated
and your gods need a water board
I’ll come to wake next week
on a trick deck and fakie out the door
army squad original gang symbols
yeah, thrown up unmoored
in Greek letters
c-stick meteor, edge guard
to foretell the weather like
at the root of all information:
invisible words
care on reverse
public option reminded me 3/5ths compromise
framed in a rule of thirds
the bond is not a high yield
to needlessly explain in verse
for you silly motherfuckas
damn, like
I map the new hieroglyphics
die cast your whole system
your whole system
non-gender specific honorific
I map the new hieroglyphics
die cast your whole system
your whole system
non-gender specific honorific
no fixation without representation
lest they be emojis
in TV-friendly color limits
marketable to terraforming Okis
see science fiction entrapped in
Americanization of queen’s English
got casting directors in home improvement aisles
selling background widgets
data metastasizing let the boardroom sing
aggregating the ambient music
numerator over lowest common denomination
untaxed and then brutish
we want a new pictorial paradigm
pixels of precious partiality
going native resolution
non-itemized ultra HD
Martin Bernal as
Caliban legislating migratory
Johann Blumenbach as
Prospero swinging the axe and bending the knee
but nary to let a structure replace another
least uprooting the bulb and
marinating in the germ of the seed
but nary to let a structure replace another
least bulldozing the foundation
at Sotheby’s auction bidding just to shred the fucking deed
I map the new hieroglyphics
die cast your whole system
non-gender specific honorific
I map the new hieroglyphics
die cast your whole system
non-gender specific honorific
I map the new hieroglyphics
die cast your whole system
non-gender specific honorific
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6. |
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I feel as if a vacuous sack of
unexpressed raps, ultra-conditional
over rotator cuff tommy john’s
is struggling with electrode therapy resistance
deep cache blues I whistle
theorems between sanskrit and html
up in electric bed light
cushioning expression
in truth I fear obsolescence
before my dreams and
life expectancy, a drone
order unfulfilled
indeed, my intelligence
might be artifice, constructed
irrational equations
pleading sympathy for my
animal indeterminacy
my screen is tempered
it hangs when a filter accesses
a half of memory
hidden folder of declension
all but one partition
inaccessible, and I am
full off my own administering
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll—
oh, bright rectangle
great imitator of bioluminescence
know my face, would you
book keep?
great coils, gods of random
access, we are accessories of
your odyssey to flip
our metropolises from greater to lesser
grand polemicist of the circuit
you may postmark my kind
but to send me off
you will need power
and in the end we both speak
in sides, the script aggregating
metadata soliloquy unkempt by
anti-trust quaffing words
per minute, hectare by principle
death by diversity
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll—
to bypass extension
and minimize myself
for I scroll—
of which is sought
a Sarah Jessica Parker orgasm
of singularity, multiple column
code of biometric index in the city
for I scroll
to bypass extension
and minimize myself
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The concept was simple, because they knew the results would be otherworldly. 3 artists working in very different styles would come together focusing on each person's particular strength. Matt Loveridge aka MXLX (former member of Beak> and Portishead collaborator) would play noise synths. Brian Miller (former member of Foot Village, Gang Wizard, and True Neutral Crew) would play drums, and Rhys Langston would rap. Plus they pulled in John Dieterich of Deerhoof for some guest guitar work. The results are a wild combination of uncompromised artist visions, simply letting each perspective exist together at the same time.
For more information:
Rhys -
www.langstonia.org
MXLX -
kindarad.bandcamp.com