ambergrist squeeze a la melville rap (draft)

hopeless, i roll with some dope shit spoke swift

the way water flows post-diluvial

and folks look, sitting on the banks

while uprooted oaks drift,

and  teens feel a touch of  the ageless

hocus-pocus, while they smoke dirt spliffs.

that is to say, i’m trailing

the oldest flow scriptural, burning up my body

to transcend the individual.

salt-runs on my cheeks as if

the sailor’s ritual

lifted me off-decks into the whale’s bowels,

ain’t jonah, i’m no job, i just howl

whirling in my wind, breath stagnant

and foul, like my slave ancestors

under egyptian whips, i slather shit,

pyramid-builder, i eat bitter,

fill my belly up with my parent’s money

every night before dinner

and remove my own liver,

cold-hearted like kissinger,

check upon my eyes where pity doesn't glimmer;

hope i contain

my ways like the lion

in winter, hungry,

chewin’ on my money,

whole life a dung heap --

ain’t no way the reaper’d outrun me:

i gun my soul like a harley--

i’d hardly falter if i had to

put my grip upon the shottie

and use the moss-berg; all those shells


layin’ out your body.

you’re lookin’ at a half-dead man,

ain’t it obvi? ous ?

squeeze my ambergrist the naughti-est,

meaning there’s flecks, and nuggets

of gold in my piss

and shit,

gut a cunt with my thalamus, calamunous,

my game locked down like

a photo in an amulet,

vocabulary ravenous,

peasants make they sacrifice

to volcano-god rhymes,

i receive virgin minds:

kindling to light
the pipe:

an orange fire bubbling;

calmly burning up you troubling

emcees who deceive yourselves

that you don’t know nothing.

all i know holmes, is socrates, birds and bees,

overwhelmed by suffering,

it’s another things:

fools-pick-fools-for underlings;

that’s why

you under him.

my hypothesized boasts a whole ‘nother thing,

y’all pesticide, i’m Rachel Carson writin’ Silent Spring,

my pen, the mic, my voice hoarse

tellin’ stories like Horace

to make your brain porous

as end-of-the-day Hector,

drag both your lobes with the horses,

i fool all your hordes,

they transform to rotting corpses

and i donate your children

to orphanages.

your mothers become whores, diehard fans demand more

the hard-core ones know how the lyric goes.

g i swear only ever with the clan would i hold heat

‘cause they swing swords shinobi

thus my destiny

clear as a glass sea, homie--

permanently solo ‘cause there ain’t no luke

or wookie, just rookies.

cookie monster, all i see is cookies.

my wordsmith hammers out

watery damascus

on the stage i handle it.

no one ever said

to me, “control dis”

so unlike horsemouth in rockers

i grow my own, roll my own and smoke it

and i hope you choke on it.

Inspired by dogs

Aliens aren't really such a big deal. Humanity only has to worry about encountering 'less intelligent' (let us say, really a stand-in for 'less powerful') aliens than ourselves, and then the concern is ethical - what harm would we do to ourselves in their exploitation?

What I'm taking as a cue here is the symbiotic relationship between humanity and dogs.

'More intelligent' aliens, well, we'll be the dogs - we will be at their mercy. That after all, is the ultimate implication buried within 'more intelligent'. Yet, dogs are not entirely at the mercy of man - the relationship is too deep, too broad, and holds too entirely different points of view (dog and man) for such a pithy summation to be inadequate. Aliens of 'equal intelligence' (equal power) can't be a greater risk than ourselves - humanity is already at risk of wiping itself out of existence, I don't see how a coequal alien race could really create a scenario that much more terrifying than the Cuban Missile Crisis. If nothing else, maybe by then humanity would have world leaders who stayed clean. And like with dogs or the many other less-powerful species we've eradicated, the only risk a 'less-intelligent' alien species poses is a moral one. Would humanity add xenocide to its list of confirmed crimes?