THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[Wise Wiggles]

Read the sweat I pour in each stride
My pen has to die for me to write
Weaving word-webs so you poets sleep nice
I want to see your tender side. You defend a knife?
Shut it down. Over extinguish. I'm foaming & fiending
To fuck up your physical image. You know about critical distance?
Most you pussies make a pitiful critic
The fuck are you to judge my actions?
You ain't SHIT without a touch of madness
Now write it over. Find the motor. Something tragic
Haunt the rhythm. I want you winded, huffing to catch it
You have no idea how many monsters are under my mattress
Hundreds are hatching. I'm rugged. A trash can
Pretty much a nobody with only a couple of passions
& dusk is the last dance, tryin' to hang with scarecrow?
Throw one in & flaaang the barrel. I'm insane, so careful
Act accord & don't evaporate before your gash absorb
Main conundrum is are you ash or corpse?
Ax or sword? Goo'ing up some wax to torch
Trying to figure out if there really is some type of magic force