Quick with the lines like I get it to go,
Saying a flow, Nathan D.O.
Angels inside us wherever we go
‘Cause the Kingdom of Heaven’s the size of a toe.
— Oh, it is? better watch your step.
Not watching my watch,
I think time’s an illusion,
And if not an illusion, a measure of movement
With presence of mind in the presence of music.
Let that watch hand come full circle: I’m a square: I’m a Rubix.
My songs ain’t seen the air like the hairs on a pubis.
I know everything not fair, let’s demand more inclusion.
I got no office chair — so I stand by what I’m doin’.

Say something provocative:
I believe God exists,
I think it’s obvious.
— Not what the topic is.
Starting my art again:
Make you take part in it,
Take it to market then
Take out the marketin’.
I make my report, then I find I’m the the dark again.
Life isn’t short, it’s just hard to find parking in it.

In my Lane like
Clark in Lois —
Get consent,
Wait for notice —
It’s isn’t hard,
It isn’t hopeless,
Just a blowhard
For a POTUS —
No offense —
Yes offense! —
I’m not on the fence,
I’m taking a side:
But that doesn’t mean I have hate in my heart,
It just means I have sight in my eyes

But really the theme of the poem is I’ll make my art when I want to be droppin’ fly
Content and songs and not because someone implied that I must be consistent with Spotify.
Not on my watch —
The watch I don’t have.
Don’t have followers either,
But that too will change,
As all things will change
And dissolve in the ether.
Alexa play something to soften my rage.

Miss me with the blah Monsanto mono crop:
A lot that y’all have bought and that was hot was obvi not a bop.
I’m on the Audubon,
Y’all in the auto shop —
Calm as a sauna
I’m gone on and on as on a clause when a comma’s dropped.
Comets hot,
Songs that got
Comments on
All that’s wrought,
Scrawl ‘em watchin’ fallin’ pollen
Then dissolvin’ frost from an otter pop.

— That’s word play.
Now it’s your play.
— Who am I even talkin to who?
Not ‘who’, but ‘whom’ — use ‘whom’ when it follows ‘to’.

— Ooh!
It’s time for the shear truth my sheeple:
It’s a grind, it’s a grind,
Like your teeth when you don’t sleep well.
A lot’ll try to proselytize with no point but a steeple:
Silence. Let the voice divine come fill the void like a key hole.

Either move to impeach,
Or move to a beach
Far beyond the view
Of what a human can reach.
Speech! Truth talk: Prufrock: should a dude eat a peach?
I’m disproving truisms: I do and I teach.

Used to hold books and get lost the pages;
Now I scroll Facebook and call people racist.
J.K. … Rowling … Shouting insistently
Empty sound and groundless fantasies of gender’s simplicity.

My plan is the hip-hop,
Even if it isn’t on the Gram or the Tik Tok.
— Did it stop? Planet’s on a pit stop:
Anybody notice that we’re all one and it’s hot?

— I didn’t catch it.
Well that’s why I recorded it,
So stop your kvetching.
Go forward in Kevin —
That’s the van. Get a fill up.
Switch to solar,
Live the soul love,
Spit a four —
Nate and Hila.