I found my soul at 300 baud
in a world the world would one day come to adore
before there were webs
we were the spiders
before there were laws
nothing could be denied to us
we were wardialling before cybercrime
we were a virus before virii became a fake news byline
but if busted I'll deny I ever tried to
break a trunk through MCI jamaica
sat on ******* station for days
raking in creds like a madmuhfuhn rap master
with nothing greater than a pair of headphones
and a cheap cassette tape deck to take me there
kids today dont respect what they play with
back in the day we had to be outlaws
to connect to todays day to day bandwidth

We got 6 bars and 6 churches,
each with similar congregations.
You might say we got that perfect
balance between grace and humiliation.

It doesn't end there, though.
We're run by a council of six,
if you include the mayor, Orin,
who lost the state election
because he couldn't represent
a cow if he had
crayons and construction paper.
He's got some creds,
if you take into account
he built a tractor museum
in a train depot
moved a half mile down
a minimum maintenance,
travel at your own risk road,
frequented by the hormonal.

But I digress. Oh yes,
we have a council of six,
each from one of the six
similar congregations,
each from one of the six
houses of libations.

However, every first Saturday,
they meet, informally so to speak,
under the torn tarp at Ernie's,
next to the beach volleyball pit
nobody uses, between the dumpsters
and the railroad tracks,
to discuss matters too urgent
for the formal published minutes.

They crinkle their Grain Bin cans
like phrenologists picking
out small crimes that paint
this town true, rural,
downwardly mobile,
cordoned off at the rim.

Few years back, they annexed
Bob Olson's back forty
for one helluva football complex
for our losing team. GO DRAGONS!
But we gotta have it.
Pay itself off in five years they said.
Rentals, events and all that claptrap.
Gloria walks her dogs on the track
everyday. Return on investment.
R O I.
At least she picks up the ****.

Third and Main got ripped up
a year ago last April.
Ain't been paved yet.
I suppose we're waiting
for those more appropriate
appropriations to accrue.

But that's alright,
we saved a fortune firing
our Andy and Barney PD
while Andy was in Afghanistan.
Don't know how they got away with it.
We get two hours of laws a day,
Deputy Dawgs, and meanwhile,
somebody's siphoning gas.
Pretty much sure it's that Keiser kid,
can't hold a job anyway.

I thought better of mowing the lawn today.
I looked at it a bit. Betty, across the street,
is giving me the side-eye as she sweeps
harvest dust from her shingles.
Well Bets, you fussbudget,
I'm working two jobs,
six days a week,
to live in this runt of a town,
so back the hell down.
You may be eighty and spry,
but you got five, count 'em five
courters with John Deere riders tending.

You see, here in the heartland,
where politic is a game played
with cheap beer and hard glances,
where the clapboard houses lose their paint,
where the new, polished surrounds
of seamless siding dictate appearance,
priority and expenditure,
where the churches and bars conspire
to define reputation and aspiration,
the manure-booted men
are denied the dignity of manure
for a sham - for a show
that barely covers the crust and wrinkles
of a town dying slow.

By: Cedric McClester

He says, he represents me,
But how in the world could that be?
When he’s too blind to see
That his mind needs to be free
He’s volunteering to be used
Which, is something I have refused
See, I don’t like being abused

He says, that his following
Will allow him to win
The African-Americans
But don’t believe him friends
Cuz I don’t care what he says
Ye is off of his meds
So, so much for his street creds
He might be a snitch for the Feds

He says, the man is a genius
But could he really mean this?
Ya heard? Ignorance is bliss,
Something like his wife’s first kiss
Clearly the man’s lost his mind
While seriously tryin’ to find
His stars which are unaligned
Now he’s in a hell of a bind

He says, he’ll take him on the campaign stump
Why not Kanye is a chump
To be out there Red Crossing for Trump
Who belongs in the garbage dump
That’s just my take on it, see
You can chalk that up to just me
But understanding is the key
So I wonder, if you agree?



Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.

Finally earned my Santa Cruz creds
after decades
My first wetsuit
O'Niel in pretty purple and pink
across my ******* and I look like I'm
wearing rubber muscles like actors playing
action heroes but I feel like I am water proof
at last, have come of age finally
A member of the tribe of cold water human fish
as I swim on in the slanted winter light

Radiant like basquiat
Throw my every thing at nothingness
In hopes of achieving..
No job holding radicalism
True expression 
Why fix a flat when you (walk) amongst stars
Obscure..
Real inspiration
No concept of (madness)
repeated (method) Vicious cycle
Timeless chaos..
Seconds of every hour
(Countless) inspiration
Untitled..
New thoughts entrance into old minds
Wisdom of having knowledge
the jewels of life
shine
Without ever noticing
(Omniscient) (translucent)
A diamond in a goats ***
The rose that grew from concrete 
Unexplainable
The art of being
existence
Just words to a page of no readers
(Blind audience)
audio visuals
Brail the (real feel) a noise for those whom cant hear
Emotionless pit
The deepest depth
Never to be touched upon
Seek and you shall find
Stagnant
(Negative aspect)
First time ive scripted a composition
In such a way scholar
No scholarships missed out on the college creds
(low credit)
Middle class
Irs out to audit a poor man thumb tax
Little ******
(Play on Words)
Romeo n Juliet tragedy
Alcoholism
deep rooted (Jean pool) Denim
Faded new terminology, wavy
Turnt up
Burn bluntz the essence of mother earth
Sweet aroma
Quit smoking its bad cause i say so..
Well ive done so
at free will but felt enslaved
(Irrational thinking)
Conspiracy
Subconscious
Third eye awakened
Opened chakras Encoded language
Aspirations

Untitled...
Simply Untitled

End scene on the Neogene

Where life-distort systems sustain
The epidemic apathy  
The superficial philistine
Degeneration entertain
Apocalypse obscenity
When everything's a ******* screen
Explicit content can't disclaim
The creds will roll mentality
Director's cutting guillotine
Makes severed heads and zombie brains
Of our inane humanity
One more cliche inaction scene

Exit stage fright for Pleistocene

Where anti-social norms have changed
The prof pic of society
To this no-filtered drama queen
Waging a twitter war complain
On photobombing refugee
Hashtag #unfriendthistrendregime
Unfollow Insta-claims to fame
Of Snap-storied conformity
Emoticon artists convene
To sell their Tinder-kindled pain
For likes and robot empathy
Dead to the world as they live stream

Brief Intermission Holocene

Where modern man is just a game
Of media monopoly
Rich Uncle's *** of Disney schemes
Pinochhio's nose, knows no shame
When Apple's poison byte comes free
With Mickey Mouse ABC themes
No Goofy Fox News hound can tame
The Lion King Plutocracy  
As talk show ghosts in the machine
Project deceptive astral plains
Phantasmic family tv
What's real is once upon a dream

Final act Anthropocene

Where we're all dropping acid rain
In puff-puff gas complacent-sea
Raising the level of morphine
Numbing denial river veins
To drown the truth in ecstasy
From alcoholic gasoline
That's sold dirt cheap like frack *******
By FDA approved decree
So patch it up with nicotine
And then OD on pure disdain
For sober, bleak reality
An age of addicts on drug screens

Let curtains fall to wipe us clean

I'm not sleepy, and there ai
n't no place
I'm going to, this is it now, … then I come again, return,
interrupting my self with crosscurrents,
these are those
riptides in opposing forces shifting
enemies
to good fellow earthling survivors, spinning in the system,
pole to pole and back
never the same river twice,
but always the pattern,
meandering,
serpentine, path of least resisting

we know we are of the samesame value,
goodwise. truewise freemade with a will
to live in happy, the state of mind,
ever after all of that…

from now on
whatever ever changes, we are
in the mix,
this is id est time-ated, tict to
silent breathing commas,
in our mutual mind space
aloud
at any given instant
or moment, moment
works instant in season
out of season,
how did you make sense of that?

This way, right.
I knew at the moment then it was past,
this is ever after, never the same,

fluid-ity enticed to artifice interfaces,
knows to gnose, epistemic tehkne
sci-psy-psi

with use, knowing takes on a second nature,
less guessing, let the cloud calculate the tip, wait

what is this tip, this social debt, I owe the server?

Stupid question, certain
impulses
urge me to declare, look it up, but you know,
if you were the server,
you know…

if you were the aimer,
you know,
if you were the trigger, you wait
to be the joke that starts the whole world laughing.

------
Survival of the we-ity bits of wits,
was we an effort
to imagine?

We, the idea. Who imagined that?
I could not form an image,
imagine, yes
form, in form fit an
i-dea
ology ****, where did she come from,
wait, is she the mother of all living?

who told this story, after whatever
resulted in now,
when we know, we all are related,
matrilineally,
mom-wise,
...?
if we were to reason, for a moment,
of the expansive sort, see

without the knack for vision my
people
perish. So seeing eyes and hearing ears,
goodsense forethought, backup
senses

great ideas in the ongoing perfection
of ever after,
post Disney ification of the servant corp,

and creds to Berners-Lee and the CERN
concern for how ideas may
evolve from necessity inventing
Frank Zappa in time to fix Romania's budget.

Pack that bag and take that stack
And track that wack ache I'll be back
To the room for no bath for rest
Sweep the broom, pass this test
Teach checked, my work be done
Leave my guests, walk or run
Let it go, let me leave
Head to toe, it's all clean
Walls and floor
Glass and door
I cleaned that ****, I'm still poor
Bye I leave this **** no more
Packing and stacking and racking and laughing
Scrubbing and stuffing and rubbing and loving
Faking and taking and giving and living
No more
Walking home with a small check, none left
Bills to pay, money I made, watch it fade
Be gone next day, two weeks
I'll be payed and back to the chain
Make it rain and gain fame
Poor man, I'm the same
Debt and loans, cheap phone
One car, no house, no spouse
On my own, alone, ain't grown
Someday I'll reach, I'll breach the line
Poverty and poor in time, no leech
Independent, just send it
Just teach me teach
I can't reach, give it up let's meet and greet
IRS pass your checks, save the rest, out of creds
Boss you the best, checks pay the IRS, the feds
Grabbing change, losing cash, shooting range, burn to ash
Might as well you lose it all, fight this well and let it fall
Wish and wish, grab a thou, reach it once, tax you out
Debts and rent, balling in debt
Goals I set, falling and lept
You chased too much, you payed too less
Your bank and such, they made your debt
But you the one the let, it rise and fall
Now you ball, in debt
See them all, they let
The IRS take their checks
Yet they call their boss the best