Spitting to the rhyme,
it’s like I’ve been stuck in rhyme,
in between the tick
and tock of father crime,
all the right gestures,
         right stares,
      seem to all be right there,
all the right words,
but I just don’t seem to care -

is it there?
in there, over there
   -where
all the **** is shared upon
    the foreign lips
    of a deadly “****”,
deadly ram in the hot spot,
     top notch of shame,
   deep, deep,
back,
     in the game,

                 in the light…