I could recite the grass on a hill
And memorize the moon
I know the cloud forms of love by heart
And have brought tears to the eye of a storm
My memory banks
Vaults of autumn forests and amazon river banks
And I have screamed them into sunsets
That echo in earthquakes
Shadows have been my spotlight
As I monologue with night
And dialogue the days
Seliliquies of wind and breeze
Applauded by sun rays
We put language in zoos
To observe caged thought
And tossed peanuts and p-funk at intellect
Motherfuckers think these are metahors, I speak what I see
All words and worlds are metaphors of me
My life is authored by the moon, footprints written in soil
The fountain pen of martian men noveling human toil
And yes, the soil speaks highly of me
When earth seeds root me
Poet tree
Now, maybe I'm too serious
Too good to hear
Too matter
Though I'm riddled with the reason of the sun
A stand-up comet with the audience of lungs
This body of laughter, is it with me or at me
Hue more (humor) or less though genders mute
And the punchline has this lifeline at it's root
I'm a star, this life's the suburbs, I commute
Make daily runs between the sun and earthly loot
And raise my children to the height of light and truth