you deserve time
before the proverbial train hits
and the album drops
you both prepare for the reactions
molecular and digital: “where this nigga at”
he lived full and died empty.
and ain’t that what they say about you, frank?
you in hiding because the hook would Sodom and Gomorrah us?
some people practice becoming ash
or
“we are in shock and lost”
but you hate coming outside, sometimes, too… don’t you, frank?
and you write in a song you never wrote but i hear
you sing it
on the tracks or wherever you’ve taken up residence:
some days when my whole/body hurts/the biggest blessing/the sweetest curse
“So Much to say but not enough pen or paper”
or the blackest
thing is dying empty and being filled to the brim
you have no time to go ghost when you are already you get back in the
studio still translucent and you, get off the tracks
right before the album drops right before your shot at acclaim.
and you could never get the ashes thing down.
you are heavy all hook number-one-
single.
The Anthology 