Ayo my cousin's name is Ross, yes -

but that is just another process

that I am gonna be painting with my mind

and it's gonna be

fainting oh-so-fine

yeah

Yo a dose of my rhymes is gon' get you so hypnotized

you're gonna get caught-up, one with the sublime,

like my man Kant wrote about way-back-when

and maybe that was part of the soul, oh then

it's like Zen could be true

along with you

and me

and this

and WE

it persists it's a part of the story

I don't resist it, I know it's just glory

and I will keep on going with what I spit

because I think I just found my own rhythm

And I'm gonna be sittin' and positionin'

myself right in for the 10th innin'

'cause right now it's actually in the 11th

and it's gonna be goin' to the 2012

oh yeah I will be like an elf

goin' through the

Middle Lands of

realm

and legend

and yes yes yes, I'm in, the...

I'm out of rhymes for the moment

but I'm just gonna own that part of my soul and

keep on flowin'

Unclench your fists

and let me kiss

the crescent moon scars

your nails have left behind.

Hasn't anyone ever

told you they aren't

worth the effort?

No need to get mad

over petty words for

they are just pebbles

against the might

of a castle.

Fading stars that can't even

compare to the Moon.

Look me in the eyes

and tell me why you

should worry.

We know what we are worth.

We know what we can do.

Together we are strong

and nothing they can

say will ever make you

anything short of

breathtaking.

We’re on 84 east. The gorge sits north, off to the left. The dogs are sleeping on the floorboards. You are driving, and the sky is true blue. We pull over and I take the wheel, and you are watching the water of the Columbia, the mountains and tunnels and tracks all around us. The road is bright and full of beauty. We pull off into the Cascade Locks, where I pay the dollar toll and we cross The Bridge of the Gods, watching the river and small islands, the shores of Oregon and Washington. A flash of light and we’re sitting in the coffee house in Stevenson, laughing and sipping hot coffee, the dogs outside running the alley, the long sweet day of summer. It’s the first time I’ve actually seen what your face might look like in human form, and it’s so beautiful it’s almost unreal. The sun reaches in the window and streaks the table top, our hands upon each other’s, the taste of life in the air. Your eyes are upon my face, and I tell you about New York City. Your laugh and your words, your nose peppered by the sun, your eyes deep with stories of home. You lean across the table—

“STANTON. COME DOWN FOR 15 MINUTES UNCLASSIFIED OUT-TIME.”

The lock was thrown. You weren’t there. I was in a concrete cell. I dressed awkwardly. I stood by the door and waited for the lock to be thrown. I saw A.J. and Pussei down there, and the guy from Booking who’d been in the bar fight, whose last name was Hookes. The lock disengaged and I walked out and down the steps for the first time, and the windows of the cells were full with faces.