{"id":6188,"date":"2020-07-16T12:18:26","date_gmt":"2020-07-16T12:18:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/?p=6188"},"modified":"2023-07-08T10:19:40","modified_gmt":"2023-07-08T10:19:40","slug":"american-bacchanalia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/posts\/american-bacchanalia\/","title":{"rendered":"American Bacchanalia"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>\npre::first-letter { float: none !important; font-size: 100% !important; padding: none !important; font-family: \"Palatino Linotype\", \"Book Antiqua\", Palatino, serif; }\n<\/style>\n<pre>\r\n\t\t<em>Experimental adaptation of Euripides' 'Bacchae'\r\n\t\t    to modern-day South-Central L.A.<\/em>\r\n \r\n We're the kids, we're the kids\r\n      and we don't give a\r\n                   shit about tomorrow.\r\n            Anonymous Song.\r\n \r\n  Rightly to be great\r\n Is not to stir without great argument\r\n But greatly to find quarrel in a straw\r\n When honor's at stake.\r\n   Hamlet.\r\n \r\n Words are no satisfaction for words.\r\n   The Code of Honor.\r\n \r\n There exists in our country a privileged class, soi disant,\r\n men of honor, who have established for themselves a higher\r\n        law. They put their foot upon the criminal code and trample it\r\n        in the dust.\r\n\r\n        They may and do commit murder with impunity. I have\r\n no objection to a privileged class built on virtue and\r\n intelligence. But I protest, and shall to my dying breath\r\n protest against an aristocracy of crime.\r\n  Reverend Arthur Wigfall, mid 1800s.\r\n \r\n There is no one here but carries arms under his clothes.\r\n At the slightest quarrel, knife or pistol comes to hand.\r\n These things happen continually; it is a semibarbarous\r\n state of society.\r\n  Alexis De Tocqueville.\r\n \r\n \"God damn you,\" Goode swore, standing over the dead man\r\n and firing twice more. \"Maybe that will satisfy you.\"\r\n  Fox Butterfield, All God's Children.\r\n \r\n These heavy-headed revels make us traduced of other\r\n        nations.\r\n  Hamlet.\r\n \r\n \r\n \r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SOUTH CENTRAL L.A. <\/h2>\n<pre>      \r\n\r\nNo work in the hood,\r\nnothin comin up;\r\nviolence is drunk by us,\r\nviolence makes us drunk.\r\nPistol, Whippets, China Doll,\r\nTammy, Shakedown, Dog, Larry,\r\nMonster, Crip-boy, Terri,\r\nLinda, boyz and girrls all;\r\nAs men and women we must fall.\r\nToke it, smoke it, better not choke it;\r\nhammer comin down all over dis town.\r\nBack on the street, I is Fleet;\r\nkiller nigga witha attitude,\r\nkiller stare killer cool;\r\nmy hatchet will wack it,\r\nPCPs in my blood will hatch it.\r\nMayhem is my plan,\r\nChaos is my tool;\r\nrod and rocket,\r\nfuck you we gonna lock it.\r\nTribalist hate, lying in state,\r\nCrips whip sissies,\r\nsissies gotta take it.\r\nMake it, can't fake it,\r\nmy blood is buzzin\r\ncause your death isa comin.\r\n.44s, .32s, sawed-off righteous,\r\nteflon bullets come'n kiss this.\r\nWorkin down the alley ccol as a cat,\r\nour feet like moonlight, light like that.\r\nNevah mutha-\r\nfuka gonna fuck ya;\r\ncap in yo nappy head\r\nlickin asphalt dead,\r\nmy rule is crimson\r\nhatred is my brimstone;\r\nwalk this world stone alone,\r\nput a cap in my enemy befo I's gone.\r\nVictory, victory,\r\nchaos gettin inta me,\r\nwildnight action,\r\nadidas-fast traction.\r\nOne dis and you get this;\r\nmuthafuckin nevah gonna miss.\r\nHandy, dandy, my colt .49;\r\neffortless, endless,\r\nthese scraggy streets is mine;\r\nhighest, wiredest,\r\nmy flight's so tragic-magic\r\nI paff out the rest best;\r\nI kite it, I bite it\r\nno matter how windless.\r\n\r\nThis which is in me\r\nis my only kin, see,\r\nnothin else can win me.\r\nViolence, violence,\r\nput its crooked root in my tooth,\r\ngrow outa my shadow\r\nto shatter the vacum.\r\nOuter space gonna waste\r\nwhen my god give the nod\r\nand unleash what's within me.\r\nUp from the Dime,\r\ndown to 299,\r\nall the way I'm gonna riot\r\nride it, abide it, alla that fly shit;\r\nnothin ain't no sin, Jammers\r\njust so long as you win, Bamm!\r\nJohn Wayne Gacy, Dick Tracy,\r\nthey all say it and lace it\r\ninside like a sidewinder,\r\njust a little reminder;\r\nLike a Medusa, we'll reduce ya\r\nuntil you crawl in hip-deep;\r\nmake your little sister weep.\r\nYeah, yeah, yo mamma gonna cry\r\nriver a tears, bye n bye.\r\nAin't no offer, I'm gonna off ya;\r\nno amnesty served up with your tea.\r\nWackin and swackin\r\nand crazy-ass crackin\r\nis all you're gonna get\r\nfrom the boyz wit the hit.\r\nThe God a Din\r\ngrowing mighty within;\r\nI puff him and huff him,\r\nI'm down with the dragon,\r\nyour blood, my religion.\r\nDeflower is power\r\nand I get it by the hour.\r\nEvery tear of your fear\r\nI lick until it tickles.\r\nRunnin with a Mustang\r\nchillin with the Gangsta gang\r\nbaffin' with the master man.\r\nYo, color! Yo color!\r\nA militant flip-off\r\nis enough to get ya knocked off.\r\nAdrenelin\r\nrushin in,\r\nflamin it\r\nnever taming it,\r\nmy juice is a mighty tower,\r\nmy snakey spine's a howler.\r\nWhip it, drip it;\r\ncordite smoke, I lip it.\r\nGivin every sign\r\nI'm possessed by the most divine.\r\nYes, it's spastic\r\nbut the girls dig my brass stick;\r\nunwavering they savor it,\r\ngettin humble just to flavor it.\r\n\r\nNow this night is diving\r\nlike wine from a shiv in\r\nsomebody, a stranger,\r\na kid in a manger;\r\ndon't matter, it splatters\r\nits darkness that flatters,\r\nmaking me restless;\r\nI'm up and I get dressed.\r\nNight combat black\r\nto match the sky's black attack;\r\nUnder my old stereo\r\nmy hand spans, there it go,\r\njust like in the rodeo;\r\nI pick up my pistol,\r\nneveah gonna let it go.\r\nOh no, ho no,\r\nout the house, I'm on Patrol.\r\nWho's dat comin\r\nMy heart starts thrummin;\r\nwhatever's out, I'm in.\r\nNothin's ever prettier\r\nthan me and my boyz sittin sure.\r\nOur waistbands are packin\r\nwhen we start the dragnet\r\nIt's an old old story\r\nrosy, erect-reared phalloi,\r\ntestosterone to the bone\r\nbring tha muthafucka rollin home!\r\nPot smoke, ropes of dope,\r\ncrack-smackin, our heads be whackin\r\nwith honey-nugget naked dreams, oi!\r\nWe smash with the mastering noise of the Boyz!\r\nOur eyes like blazin .38s,\r\nheaven's angels at the gate,\r\nsatan's flamethrowers just can't wait\r\nso we shout\r\nwhile our arms sparr routs\r\npickin up the little ones\r\nto teach em all the killin fun;\r\nIn our enemy's fear\r\nour hearts sail clear;\r\nour dreads sled better\r\nwhen they're deader and wetter.\r\nSnortin and flarin\r\nwild and darin\r\nlike some high-wire act\r\nwe dance in the flak\r\nhotter and hotter,\r\ndemented as otters!\r\nMighty in our joy\r\nboyz among boys;\r\nHoly loud-proud\r\nour hand signals make the rounds\r\ntil every fucka in the hood\r\njust wishes that he could or would\r\nthrow his hand around his heart\r\nand break it flaming like kindling wood!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>PREFACE SCENE<\/h2>\n<pre>\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY holds a gun to the blue-swathed temple\r\nof an enemy Blood, who kneels cuffed before him.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou rude, intruding Bloods covet too much\r\nwhat my better glove alone must hold.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY shoots the kneeling man dead.\r\nAll the other cast members are there, except\r\nBLINDEYE, ROBBER G, and MONSTER. All solemnly \r\napprove.]\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SCENE ONE<\/h2>\n<pre> \r\n\r\n[In front of ROBBER G's house. His little sister is\r\nleaning at the door.]\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nIt's Blindeye knockin-- its time to start rockin.\r\nLet's kick it; we're wicked. I'm sick a just waitin;\r\ntonight there'll be no hesitatin. Yo yo yo\r\nRobber G-- Let's go! We built dis damn town\r\nNow is the hour to tear it damn down.\r\nHow else have we got to show our firey crowns aroun?\r\nLi'l Sis, its my wish-- go get yo bro for this.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nIs that you tinkerbellin my door? Yo Blindeye,\r\nhere stands your able man in ripped-up Hell.\r\nI'm strapped with my gat; let's kick it.\r\nLet's shotgun our enemies, for violence is sweet!\r\nRowdy-crowdin these poor-ass steets\r\nwe're heroes, we're Neros, one hand smashin\r\none hand upliftin resistless the gold node of our \"set.\"\r\nHomeboys of the pure noise, we need to bleat.\r\nDuck in your heads, resisters, before you get beat!\r\nOn my bike I am strikin.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nMost merciless.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nWith curses I'm rehearsin;\r\nNo stick shift help me with my deathwish. \r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nYeah, deathwish for those suckers.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nI don't care if I die, long as I flyin!\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nI seen death many multiple times.\r\nWhat his most ferocious incarnation, Robber G?\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nWe is!\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nRighteous.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nMade like an ace mace in the USA,\r\nI'll split the illin' face of every disgrac-\r\nful flounder down under our 60th st Parallel,\r\nI'm bulgin and boyish, not old and churlish,\r\nholdin on to all the things I own\r\nas if they'll save me some day. I am\r\nmy own creation, built to slay.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nAnd that's how we'll stay.\r\nBut we still gotta pedal over to Psycho Sixty's\r\nmomma's house an get him up together with us.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nAll one proud cloud of righteous trouncin!\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nDown in my neves, in my guts, I'm bouncin,\r\nwired to the surprise. Yass, yass.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nThis the Tradition. We down with it.\r\nOlder'n the hands that slapped down\r\nthese mean streets. Our augering god was cuttin\r\nfaces from their owners, ruinin unions,\r\nsmearing a weirdness over the cold nighttime,\r\nnapalm-lobbin our erect status outward\r\nto girls and strangers since before Life,\r\npractically. Damn, can't go gainst that\r\nno way.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nWho wants ta? I'm a live wire!\r\nI'm burnin to be gettin it on, cuz.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nLet the old beware, and the young take care,\r\nwe here to rip their stars from existence.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nPsycho Sixty! He cool like that.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nYeah, he wit the hood all the way. \r\nDo or die, like the goddamn Marine Corps.\r\n\r\n[Enter PSYCHO SIXTY.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nGentle citizens! Has you heard the clap trap\r\nbombasting its wailing rogue spell\r\ninto the clits' ears herebouts? Damn,\r\nthey sweatin they spandex off for some\r\nnew yule log, hotter'n our pistol-whipping\r\nsix-inch dicks. Say he like a god over there\r\nand all, got the whole block scooted over\r\nby one bushy nieghborly neighborhood.\r\nGot every black female squattin at his shack.\r\nHis residence is \"the Presence,\" what they say.\r\nThey shootin and hootin, gettin all kinda\r\nmalt liquor drunk over there. I don't know.\r\nShaneesta never give me no blow but she\r\ndown on all four in the bay window for this mo fo.\r\nI thought I was the top cat, blacksters.\r\nCan't no one go howlin at my black moon\r\nlessin' I gives the say-so, you know?\r\nThem girls all pretendin it some tenderness\r\nin they minds that make them wild-ass wild\r\nlike that, strayin from they home-made beds.\r\nI put some serious kidnapping on their sleepy asses\r\nthis wicked dawn, long befo yo asses was up.\r\nThey down in my basement sweatin it.\r\nRest a them squallers beat it, like a anthill\r\nsmashed by a passin holocaust, my death breath,\r\nwhen I went down their bolted hole,\r\nall ragin and maniac, sportin my mask\r\ntime has chiselled to outrageous disaster.\r\nI'll catch 'em out later at leisure\r\nwhen they come crawlin back to ol' Psvcho, not crowin.\r\nDamn, my own Moms hot-footed it to that party,\r\nshe was hollerin and drinkin up with the rest of em;\r\nand she can really do down some brew to, y'all.\r\nGot all this on my iron hands, and what else?\r\nThis stranger baps his hip-hoppin ass onto the block,\r\na juggler, a magician out of Lydia,\r\nhead all nappy blond and fire-wild,\r\nringlets trapsing down his neck sweet-scented,\r\nacne-free and one dear green eye to boot!\r\nSays he got Lady Love on his soul's side;\r\nwell damn if he ain't buckin our honies\r\nall day and all night too. Screw, screw, screw.\r\nBut I tells y'all-- and watch my scratched eye--\r\nI ain't lying, neither, if'n I catch him,\r\nby his gold-ringletted necklace of honey-locks\r\nI'll shake him so down he can't dance shit,\r\nhis left foot be so disconnented it can't find\r\nthe right; his partnered hands, which been\r\nsnatchin my snatch so near me, they gonna\r\nforget what a clap is, laddies. Yes they is.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nDamn, man. You gonna bap our happiness away from us,\r\njest like that? I ain't havin it. You nuts, is what.\r\nSince when you been against a little partyin,\r\nPsycho Sixty?\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nShoot'em up and ride 'em high;\r\nain't that what you always say?\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nDon't make no sense, gentle citizen.\r\nGots to respect the wildness that's in us,\r\ngive it free let and insane run. Be humble\r\nbefore the river courses of your adrenelin.\r\nAin't life just one rollercoaster whore, padre?\r\nYou talk like a cat that's swack, but you\r\nain't makin no kinda solid sense, mistah.\r\nWhen lovin and hatin come against us, we break.\r\nOur innards scatter outside, and freeze\r\nin whatever shape overwhelming desire or\r\ninsurmountable hate has trashed em into.\r\nC'mon, Psycho Sixty, you know. We head up\r\nfor that damn party ourselves. Gonna get puss.\r\nGonna get high. Gonna kill some swell-heads\r\nin the park about damn midnight. What up?\r\nWhy not? Our god done grow solid within us.\r\nRage and chaos dance. Suck my cock\r\nor stuff a sock in it if you ain't down.\r\nWhat kinda leader is you without your baton?\r\nSo this new one on the turf ain't no good?\r\nThat ain't what I hear. This Monster, yeah,\r\nthat his name; this Monster got a chomp on it,\r\nhold the whole hood in his mouth like it nothin,\r\nhe could done damn spit it out again.\r\nHe gonna be ridin high Old Gangsta style\r\nquick as a hiss-mist grafitti swish a silver Dutch Boy\r\nhit them splintery city walls. His name\r\ngonna rise and shine; all a all the rest....\r\nThey gonna fall. Don't ask me how I know,\r\nI know. You damn know I get them frenzied\r\nsessions when I'm outta breath, trapsin\r\nhomeward way after some slash and action.\r\nYou know what I see flashin in my head then \r\nis the God-awfulest truest things there be; \r\nI get my Blindeyes then, white chocolate and starin'.\r\nRobber G hadda drag my sorry ass off of Florence\r\nthat one wilding night, scrapin my heels raw,\r\nI was so blind-righteous with my vision, cuz.\r\nMonster, man. Partyin, yeah. Get your soul,\r\nwrenched from your nervous skin, flyin high\r\nand feelin whole again; ain't that enough?\r\nAin't that what all the all be all about, Psycho?\r\nCan't feel no wretchedness in us when\r\nyou floatin mighty enough to touch dead Heaven,\r\nsee everybody there, all my old homies ressurected,\r\nkickin it at a fat-ass barbecue, smilin,\r\nlaughing on the butteriest summer afternoon\r\nthat ever was. Sincerely, Psycho Sixty, man,\r\nthat's what all I seen last time I rolled\r\ninto one a Monter's monsta Parties.\r\nAnd Belinda weren't no shy Aphrodite that night!\r\nPinned her whimpering body on me like a\r\nshishkabob, bro. My Heaven one wet place,\r\nLester, I'll tell ya. Your babes, man they\r\nbe gettin it on or not once you out that door\r\njust like they please. No monster got\r\na remote control on all that. They do like natural.\r\nDon't be shootin me those evil looks and all that.\r\nShaneeta wanna be your li'l princess,\r\nwell she'll keep her legs crossed then anywhere;\r\none party ain't gonna make no horndogette\r\nouta her if she loyal to your poinger.\r\nShit. You know how it is when you get The Rage,\r\nyour eyes roll up red like gumballs,\r\nand your lips bow over theyselves like some\r\nAfrican mask Miss Pederson tripped on the class\r\nlast year; sayin about our heritage and all.\r\nYeah, yeah, that's just a buncha crap. I know.\r\nThese streets is my labyrinth, back and forwards.\r\nAnd Monster, man, he got some kick-ass biceps,\r\n22 inches, and a bazooka forsooth stashed\r\nat his wackin shack over past the rended Hendersons'.\r\nDamn but the mighty eye of him will bend 'em,\r\neven the most honorably ferocious-rough\r\nof 'em, down to a cowardly knot of nerves;\r\nsometimes, anyway, they jes' break and scat.\r\nSeen it happen; they had the guns, and he just\r\nhad that moon-blind eye a his, blood solemn.\r\nYou think you got the way with all the block\r\njust cause you the Power here? Think again;\r\nsomething high and wilder goin on when Monster stirs.\r\nRobber G and me, we your loyalest,\r\nshout out Psycho Sixty forever! and blow\r\nmore than one rival clean away into yesterday.\r\nYou know we done that, how many times together,\r\nclearing midnight with all chambers empty.\r\nHow many wakes we drive by laughin our asses off?\r\nEvery crib sibling of our troop say first\r\n\"Psycho Sixty!\" before they pop out \"Moms\"\r\nor \"Daddy,\" oh yeah. But I tell you, Psycho,\r\nalthough you the first word round here,\r\nyou ain't the last or only. You like being high?\r\nMonster put a zip in it make you think you\r\npure undiluted sky, commander. You like\r\nto see stitched Xs over your enemies' eyes?\r\nMonster gonna whip those Xs in fast as kisses,\r\nand get you ripped on givin 'em, too.\r\nWhee ooo! Come on down, proud crown!\r\nStep mildly to this new wildness;\r\nwon't wear out no welcome at the Monster House,\r\nnobody there see what comin or going.\r\nTheir minds is gold-blown, his stash is so noble.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nBlindeye sayin just what he seein, by Jesus.\r\nPriceless advice ain't often gotten so free.\r\nIt only a goodwill gesture to take what he givin\r\nat the very lees of the least, my Priest.\r\nI know your holy vesture is crossed with a baretta.\r\nMy prayers all open up hot like a hollownose\r\nshot too, Psycho. It ain't about that at all.\r\nIf he givin on all whacked and false-like, well,\r\nat least the ecstasy today's gonna be real real.\r\nWhat more you need to know 'bout that than how you feel?\r\nYou don't come down, some a the others may\r\nget smellin that you're weak, put off, shy\r\nof divin inta what's here. Now why would\r\nthat be? they might ask. Psycho Sixty,\r\nhe the real down with the downest man around.\r\nMaybe he slippin, just a li'l bit. That's it.\r\nNext thing, someones be skating past our wake,\r\na triple one, gasping laughs into their hands,\r\nand drooling their Coors out they noses, jose.\r\nI don't like it, but there it is.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nYou gonna fade up like a bruise you not careful;\r\nI don't care how black you think you are.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nC'mon, man, Blindeye here right. Real right.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou keep your hands straight off me, now, hear?\r\nI don't want to hear anymore of this Blackenstein shit;\r\nsuperduper Monsta Trooper. Y'all can just stall all that.\r\nThey call you Blindeye... huh... well they gonna\r\ncall you Lefty soon, cause all you gonna have left\r\nis your left nut, homie. Don't be pullin no stuntflying\r\nin my zone, Mr Bones. You got it? One more slip,\r\nyou won't even know what happenin'.\r\nAnd that ain't no stale threat, jet. Monster-Man,\r\nI'm a gonna deal with him most harshly.\r\nYes indeed. Spliff, Fast Matthew, c'mon,\r\nwe gonna rouse them lazy asses kickin back round\r\nYolanda's house. She been diggin his ass\r\nmost unrighteously of all. Her and her wondertunnel.\r\nI'll spurn those he's turned away from me first,\r\nthat'll burn him most deep and creeply, I know.\r\nHim and his pretty green girl's eye, well hell,\r\nthey can just be trippin on seein\r\nall the homies torn away and spurnin him.\r\nYou go there-- tell him that. He just\r\na hissing miss until he take me out;\r\nI'm the wack trap that'll zap him, no pre-lim.\r\nAnd when time come round to blistex his ass\r\nfor the final, humiliating kiss of my colt .45,\r\nlet him see the hardy party he been plannin\r\ndisintegrate to tears while he wailin.\r\n\r\n[Exit PSYCHO SIXTY.]\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nDamn but that one-hundred percent whack!\r\nMonster ain't no threat to his po ass.\r\nDamn! Psycho Sixty is within inches\r\nof being the top dog among top cats, and he\r\nblowin it bigtime. He just gotta go along\r\na LITTLE with the adrenalin high Monster havocs,\r\nthen everything'd be real cool. Ice cubed.\r\nLet's you and me weave over to the Monsta's house\r\nand put a molten spotlight on Psycho Sixty's\r\ngood deeds and charming ways. Monster'll see\r\nand make sure Psycho repent his ashen ass\r\nstep'n'fetch-it quick. That's sure.\r\nMonster'll play straight, and no mistake.\r\n'Long as Psycho Sixty play along, jes a li'l bit.\r\nSome bowing now will save his sassy ass from howling.\r\nMaybe it'll look like we beggin a little,\r\nbut let's throw our whole hearts inta it, cuz.\r\nEverybody get a bit pleady and wrecked when they buzzed.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nThat fool talk like a fool.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nGospel.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n    \r\nCrackin on a six-pack\r\ngolden liquor makein eyes slack,\r\ndistributing hilariousness\r\nhandin over some fleshy miss,\r\nEvery kind a lovely sin\r\nMonster pulls pulsin in\r\nwith a smoke-wreathed grin.\r\nHigh times with him be certain.\r\nNo troubled hand draws a curtain\r\non the revelry, the mystery,\r\nthe peek at ecstasy.\r\nDon't be bleedin no worry\r\non the magic carpet he procures.\r\nHarps and snow-flurries\r\nmix it up with the crack now.\r\nSnap it, and trap it, c'mon hands let's clap it,\r\nMonster is a comin in with his wings a flappin.\r\n\r\nThrashin and trashin,\r\nit's anarchy he's hatchin\r\nit's a method of freedom\r\nwhen your heart is a speared plum\r\nwhen your eye sockets\r\nfeel like a dirty pocket\r\n--seen too many corruptions\r\nto pull together your gumption?\r\nthen let thy soul be free!\r\nTake it from me, for yourself take take it,\r\nmindless happiness is in these veins\r\nwhen you let your blood be insane\r\nand thoughtfully derrange\r\nwhat happens in the brain; hop that train,\r\nride the high wire,\r\nclub your dick wit desire.\r\nExpand necromancin, with the DJ trancin,\r\ntwirl like a girl, no one will be wiser.\r\nMonster, Monster, in us he's exercisin.\r\n\r\nBeing wise is just for fools;\r\nshake the house of the righteous,\r\nthat's the golden rule.\r\nWhen trouble is floodin\r\nand your thumper be bubblin\r\na karma-calmness like dew bedights\r\nrage-reared heads day n' night;\r\nforget hurry, forget-worry,\r\nspear freedom's angry page,\r\ntake a life but take it sage:\r\nowning every action-- never sorry.\r\nYour eyes smile in the blast,\r\nin the muzzle-flash I'm trashed;\r\nby death's clear light I'm washed.\r\nFor every dissin' victim I've executed,\r\nthe Monster in me washes pure what conscience polluted.\r\nI'm a bigger bigger bigger\r\nwith my finger on the trigger.\r\n\r\nEyes turned inward see your thought;\r\nwhat's secret becomes what not;\r\nthe unconscious, the monstrous,\r\nvomit visible in the roar's hush.\r\nBefore you born, who hung your face\r\nbefore they skulls, cuz? What place\r\ngalloped your heart alert\r\nfrom void and unbeing, the universe's dirt?\r\nButtermilk skulls harden to a grimace;\r\ndeath had your face befo you was in it.\r\nMr. Bones still dance when flesh dismissed;\r\nyou be what you be, cuz, not what you wished.\r\nOrgasm's deaf death spasms make eyes inch inwards;\r\nheavy bodies drop lards, skeletons lighten skywards.\r\nWhen Monsta has gotcha, yo tweet like a bird;\r\ninsane only insane for them that ain't heard.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SCENE TWO  <\/h2>\n<pre>     \r\n\r\n[Enter SPLIFF and FAST MATTHEW, escorting MONSTER.]\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nMan, his ass is silk.\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nNo spine in his kind. Comes all simpering.\r\nLet us cuff 'im too, wrists out poutin.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\n\"Truss me, buss me, just don't make no fuss. See?\"\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nHe came sayin at us with his nice green eye n' all.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nSwayin sweet and neat. Got us laughin and\r\nso sorry somehow inside at lockin and knockin him;\r\nDamn, when's the last time I cared I scarred\r\nsome stranger's sorry ass too hard? Yet\r\nwith him I was all gentleness and niceness.\r\nSomething in him. Some potent flow of twining\r\nwine rhyming a wildness under his slick skin,\r\nPsycho Sixty. I swear. Mister Monster,\r\nme n' Spliff didn't take you on our own recognizance.\r\nPsycho here done ordered it all. That his way.\r\nShoot first.... He crazy for his honor n' all.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nYou know all them other folk we got chained\r\nand chillin to the waterheater in your basement?\r\nWell, they angels now, or somefin.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nHow angels?\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nThey done flewed the coop.\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nLoop de loop, dey flew de coop. \r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nYeah, and wasn't no lock nohow smashed.\r\nLike they had the keys all forged and molded\r\nthat escaped 'em, Psycho Sixty.\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nPretty nifty, huh?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou're a magician, ain't you, you Monster? \r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nWhat seem like magic sometimes de simplest thing a all.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou think you could undo a lynch in such a cinch?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nGot to know what death be to undo a death, I guess.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nWhere you from? Ain't from no round here.\r\nYou infiltratin. What hood's backin you up?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nMy kind are from all around. No place everywhere;\r\nYou see a fire, you see a fight, I'm from there.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nUh huh. Any place more specific?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nNo. Naw, not really. My folks from out the cuntry.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nWhy you draggin all your wildass rollin-eye shit\r\ndown to my part a town? Don't need no voodoo boo\r\nwashing away our homicide outlines and marks a war.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nThings I got in me just gotta come out.\r\nWherever. Whenever. It don't matter much.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah, I can sip that, but I can't swallow\r\nwhat everyone else gets just jammin away\r\nat your hollerin wild-loud shindigs, stranger.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nWhat they get stay in their eyes, but you can't see it.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nFuck that shit. You just jackin me up\r\nso I'll let you loose just to get off myself.\r\nI ain't buying that. You tell me. Get me off now.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nSome things only come out in the doing, not the tellin.\r\nI can't teach you howta fly lessen you jump up\r\nto my piece of sky, Psycho Sixty.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nUh huh. You ain't tellin me shit, genius.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nWise things sound like fool things to a fool.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY cracks MOSTER in the head.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nKeep that up you ain't gonna be wearing your tongue\r\ntoo much longer, Monster. My dog be chewin on it.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nHidden things in you gonna whap your ass backwards,\r\nPsycho Sixty; and it ain't me that'll do it,\r\nit's your own ignorant self. That's a promise.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nDamn, that's it! God damn you, you Monster!\r\nDon't nobody step on my respect.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nWhat horrors will you scar me with?\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nGonna shave your dread head. That my first cut.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nDo that. just know you ain't playing with no Maybe.\r\nThese dreads are a river flowing,\r\nand ain't grown out to be chopped. They're sacred.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nGirl hair on a man ain't sacred. Now hand me \r\nyour psychoactive stash, massah. Ha ha.\r\nWhatever it is you got a lock on ain't\r\ngonna stay locked away from Psycho Sixty, sister.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nI can't give it up. You want to take,\r\nthen let it be on you. Your stirring deep shit now.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah yeah; I don't let no bald woman\r\ntell me what I'm doing or not doing.\r\nNow do I fast Matt?\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nYou the rockin rooster a the roost, Psycho, no doubt.\r\nBut still, he ain't done nothing much. And maybe....\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nMaybe shit. Ain't no maybes in Maybe anymore.\r\nDon't step on my respect.\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nNo no. Nothing like that Psycho, man.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah. That's fine then. Hog-tie this muthah.\r\nThen drag his scraggy ass back to the basement.\r\nNo second escape about to happen on me. And hurry up,\r\nthose cocksuckers from over on Hoover lookin for us.\r\nThey just be itchin to be triggerin us\r\nto rancid splats on the sidewalk. No more talk.\r\nLash him, and let's exit this disaster zone.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou bind me now, you be setting somehing loose\r\neven you don't want no peek at Psycho Sixty.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY strikes him.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nTrash that backtalk. I'm a martyr your ass.\r\nI'm the master on this plantation. Strafe him.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou don't know spit about what your life really is;\r\nyou don't know nuffin at all about who you are.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nChain him to the light fixture with the bike lock\r\nlike I showed you. If he moves, he'll be\r\nelectrocuted in the darkness. That'll be\r\nhis only enlightenment. Fast Matt, Spliff,\r\nmove it! I'll grab Betty, Shaneesta and them stupid chicks\r\nback to my dominion lickety-split again.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou sure is crazy Psycho, just like your name say.\r\nWhat you lockin up wit me can't be kept pent.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nTidal triumph, awash like graves\r\nCome to kill y'all, not to save.\r\nMy mind's unbalanced,\r\nEntranced, with wicked motions dance;\r\nBut what's more subtle, right, brighter,\r\nMe insane or you in chains?\r\nPsycho's blind to what makes him wind,\r\nHe just a kite in this wind;\r\nNow I look myself over, head to toe,\r\nJust what I am, I just don't know.\r\nBut not to know is half the score,\r\nOr more, cause Jazz to the soul's a whore.\r\nRap just happens, spontaneous combustion,\r\nOf will and world it is the junction.\r\nAnd all my plain \"just Ignorance\"\r\nOverbrow's that Psycho's show\r\nOf foresightful jurisprudence.\r\n\r\nI'm a dunce, I'm a dunce,\r\nI dance like I was drunk;\r\nI drink like a dancer's waver;\r\nEvery gold footsole go clunk,\r\nMany a times, not just once,\r\nWe live and die forever.\r\nOf this stupid truth I'm treasurer\r\nCause my mind's expandin ecstaticer,\r\nEcstaticer until I cannot stir\r\nWithout the mutible union come\r\nTo do and do til my bones' undone.\r\nDeep in Monster's interlocked skull\r\nLies a Zoroaster's indomitable skill\r\nWill to swill and will to kill,\r\nTogether lie down on the rapist's hill.\r\n\r\nBut I dance in a trance,\r\nMy blood's as bold as an old lance\r\nDashin fantastic through my happenstance\r\nLike a teflon-infected bullet's truth\r\nThat only in death may find a truce.\r\nHow we gonna this ecstatic state induce?\r\nIt come when it come, and that's the truth.\r\nI won't degrade what's played into spoof,\r\nOr uncoil my moil of heart with ruth,\r\nThings too imposssible\r\nCome and give me thrills\r\nTime and again, as if Time stood still.\r\nMonster and Psycho: are they equals,\r\nBone's cold truth, and tyrant's hot demand?\r\nBefore this play's final line's declaimed,\r\nOne'll drink gin grinning from the other's skull.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SCENE THREE<\/h2>\n<pre>\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nHey hey, Betty, you gonna get it on with your steady?\r\nHere I am, and I in the clear. Get near.\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nClose as halitosis, Monster. You touch me,\r\nman you put my pants on fire. Say, how you\r\nget outta Psycho's clutches so fast\r\nwithout so much as a scratch on your wild hide?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nBetty, that sold fool Psycho don't know\r\nwho he is messin with in the least. Not the least.\r\nI'll cut him up like butter, muthahfucker.\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nBut didn't he have you all painfully chained,\r\nor somethin'?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nCan't put a lock on lightness, baby.\r\nCan't chain the mainspring, no way, no maybe.\r\nI learned me a few tricks a gettin outta\r\nmy Moms' womb. After that trick, every other'n's\r\nsimple as snatch, natch.\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nNot always so simple.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nDon't even play that with me, Betty.\r\nYou was as easy to knock over as a toddler.\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nThere's something you're not a-tellin me,\r\nMonster. Those locks didn't just pop off.\r\nPsycho's no fool no matter how many ways you say he is.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nOh no? Catch a ear a this, then.\r\nThey had me so locked up, with so many chains\r\nwrapped about my boisterous body, I looked\r\nlike a arrested tornado, Betty Boop.\r\nDid that put old Monster down? Did that\r\ncrinkle the pure linens of my spirit? Did it?\r\nAhh, no. You put me lookin like a sunk slave\r\nin your basement rooms and you find out damn fast\r\nthat down just ain't where I's stayin.\r\nBut, as I was relating, I was so ass-wrapped up\r\nin these chains, that I couldn't hardly move;\r\nso I had my arms out all christ-wise\r\nand Psycho hisself and his helper hadda help\r\nme move to my imprisonment, one broken step\r\nat a time. And they dids. And I had my hands\r\nclapped upon Mister Sixty's exposed neck;\r\nand what was in my mauling hand? Now what\r\ndo you suppose was there?\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nBeats me.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nI tripped him out with a li'l slipped dose\r\nof something totally morose and potent.\r\nA most engrossing substance; all romance\r\nand moonlight, with no follow-up dawn\r\nto bring his senses back to a sense a belonging\r\nin this ol' world. His nappy head\r\nwas in the most far-outest space sayable\r\ninside of thirty seconds of my benediceion.\r\nSoon's as sayin, he was a-wrappin my swayin chains\r\naround the waterheater itself, and handin me\r\na uzzi from his personal arsenal.\r\n\r\n<strong>BETTY<\/strong>\r\nNo lie?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nNo lie.\r\nHe was fumblin aroun and fiddln with many things\r\nlike a blind man with a combination lock.\r\nAnd I was right there next to him, lookin over him,\r\nhim not seeing me at all, or with wasted-out eyss\r\noverviewing my present frame, thinkin me\r\nsome out-of-alignment pillar o' the house.\r\n\r\n[Offstage.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nHe gone! Snap to, units! Get my slack soljers assembled!\r\nJump to my house, jacks! Monster's gone!\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nHah hah hah. Guess we in for a li'l company.\r\nPsycho, Psycho. He a man fightin against flashes.\r\nWhat is men's meaning in life compared to me?\r\nI'll knock out agony and joy in one wailin heave;\r\nhim? He gonna rage all a his days in a blaze,\r\nnot seein the true beauty of violence for his fires.\r\nAss up in the air, wigglin around, sayin\r\n\"I'ma shoot mo' fo'. I'm a shoot his eyes out,\r\ngonna cut him up baaad.\" Hmm hmm. I'm wise\r\nenough to see this ol' world with my own eyes.\r\n\r\n[Enter PSYCHO SIXTY.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nMy head is swimmin' like to universe's chaotic begining.\r\nI had that Creature Features Monster spangle-bangled\r\nwith razor wires in my bloodletting basement,\r\nand now he's out, gone as a hour burned past.\r\nHow'd that happen? Betty.... You! Down on your face,\r\nfucker, nobody get me goin and creep outta my house;\r\nnobody douse me with that humiliation.\r\nI'm a drown your stray cat ass immeadimento, Pablo.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nRelax. Your incompetence ain't your personal\r\ndiaster; everybody round here got a share in it.\r\nYou owe it to all to stall out that vengeance shit\r\nuntil you see for yourself whether I bring some benefit.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nEverybody, do a shotgun patrol. Now.\r\nYou see one strange head in our hood... Pow-pow-pow.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nThat ain't the answer, Psycho.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou so wise-ass wise. You got all the answers,\r\ncept when you need to be tellin me true, bruiser.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nI'm true when I need the truth. Then I'm truest.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nSay your last prayer, pilgrim. This the apocalypse for you.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY holds gun to MONSTER's head.\r\nTwo guys on bicycles scoot in, squealing to a halt\r\nbefore the tableaued pair.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nWHAT THE FUCK IS IT? I'm ready to waste this shit.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY holds a confused hand up to his aching head.]\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nEverybody on the block has flocked out of it,\r\ndown towards Florence and Normandy, commander.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nIt's true truth. And everybody strapped to the max.\r\nThey're out wailin and nailin everyone and everything.\r\n\r\n<strong>FAST MATTHEW<\/strong>\r\nI saw my little bro on his Big Wheel\r\ntricyclin by with a slingshot.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nWe arced around in the dark. Slammed\r\nour breaks by a car chillin at the light,\r\ny'know, near Hoover Avenue? Bap-- trashed\r\nthat ol' man in it, pulled him out\r\nto old Mrs. Witchett's garage in a red rage,\r\nstuffed his shirt in his mouf, tied him way down.\r\nLeft him there wit' some mangy hound lickin round.\r\nThen we took us a fine drive, moving lightning\r\nat our weighted waists and itchin fingertips,\r\nplenty of trouble and noise available to our egos.\r\nSaw Shaneesta, melon-head in a silk dew-rag\r\nwalkin sly and stylin outa the 7-'leven.\r\nDamn she a evil beauty in a tropical skirt, Psycho!\r\nSo, we trail her, silent as silk out silkworm's ass.\r\nAnd she stormin down those streets!\r\nMakin time like a rock-climber in zero-G.\r\nHer heels' clickety-click only sound out there\r\nbesides the moon's hollow burn-through\r\nwhere the streetlights was out. Fast Matt\r\ncrackin his neck all-ways sideways to see\r\nif any of the Hoover Bloods is in the water\r\nsharkin our exhaust. But everything seemed clean.\r\nThen China Doll meet up with SHANEESTA\r\nafter about half a block, not sportin our colors,\r\nbut got on instead the purple-blues the Bloods use\r\ntwirlin through their fine high hair.\r\nThen Larry and Shakedown show up, movin too\r\ndown the same block, same direction,\r\ntoward that Normandy whir-pool center of action\r\nand dick and quiff atteniion. The cold moon\r\nsmoking over all a us like a spurted gun.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou keep on talkin, Spliff. If\r\nanything he say implicate you, Monster,\r\nyour blown-open neck gonna look as sad\r\nas a chil' when his balloon get popped.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nWe turn the corner, and whoa Lord! Hordes\r\na Bloods with zip-shivs, automatics, bats,\r\nare dancin entranced as Manson aborting li'l\r\nSharon Tate in the white wilderness suburbs;\r\nevery fine hand was lifted, every piece cocked,\r\nevery hard eye targeted as clockwork\r\ntickin the death-seconds back to the zero-hole\r\nthat eats the victim's life away. And victims'\r\nstartin to fall too, all over, like a dance\r\ncollapsed-- r'member that time we all played\r\nmusical chairs at your Moms' house, Psycho?\r\nLike that. But the music stop and nobody here\r\nhave a chair, they all fall all every which ways.\r\nMatted blood dull in the moonlight. Street-\r\nlights shot out in favor of nature's dark\r\nlong time gone, maybe, as if the dark was forver.\r\nThen me an' Fast Matt gets this queer idea.\r\nY'know how your Moms was out there an' all,\r\nwell, we thought we should go chase her ol' ass\r\nand drag her back to the habitat, so she\r\nhere once an for all, whatever else is a comin,\r\nand that's that; Fast Matt give it the nod\r\nand off we shoot, moving through the cruel ballet\r\nand sloppy bodies' hectic sprawl. Damn if'n I\r\ndidn't slip more'n once times in black blood,\r\nmy heels still bapped with that baptism.\r\nNow we had just passed a smashed-in Sam's\r\nWont-Mart, not gone too far beyond that at all\r\nwhen into my flyin ears came a stingin' singin',\r\ncan't describe it no other way, high keenin,\r\nstripped of velvet humanhood, a raw caw\r\nbut beautiful too, as if every extragance of voice\r\nhad been torn muscle by muscle off, and only\r\nthis solo bone of hollow knowing, this hurt chruch\r\nof moon-induced croonin was lef'. Shift\r\nevery flap of my heart backwards, it did.\r\nAnd who we see at the quackin head a this choir?\r\nWhose angel-face, intense as a punch,\r\nand masked all from brow to drippin chin\r\nin another's blood, the mask makin' her look\r\nall holy and insane or somethin', but your MOMS\r\nPsycho? No one but her unleashin that wire\r\nof diamond sound down the corntracted alley.\r\nAnd she flayin' some space cadet like a filet mignon,\r\nright there in de crags a the trash,\r\nmakin this wail and tearin a man to pieces---\r\nwith her nails! Damn but that sight went mighty\r\nright through me; I quailed; troubled somethings\r\nalmost undid my guts like I had the shits.\r\nMoms bringin the life inta this world\r\nand axing it out as weil-- that ain't damn right;\r\nthat for soljers and others to muscle through,\r\nnot moms whose titties is all molten over\r\nwith milks when you puts up o 'em. Not right.\r\nDamn not right. So me an Fast Matt move to her\r\ngonna just grab her ass or knock her outs,\r\nif we have to, no disrespect, Psycho,\r\nwhen she raise up that strange mask-face,\r\nall Afrikaans or some shit, right from the heart\r\na the man she disastered, looks straight\r\nthrough me, through my whole soul in one look,\r\nwith dismissive eyes, and then turns her howl-hedd\r\nto the right and bites the night air\r\nwith these words-- oh Lordy I won't forget 'em soon!--\r\n\"They, untouched by the monster's grace\r\nseek to touch to undoing our violent chase,\r\nas if the mens owned every insanity!\r\nAAhiiiii! Speed with me deathly! Deathly and free!\"\r\nThen she and twenty others batted at us,\r\nflapped dark in the darkness, all speed, like she say.\r\nWe barely 'scaped. Scraped knees an hands,\r\npulled the '78 camaro through twenty backyards,\r\na rile and a ruckus all fucked up,\r\ntearing the air with angry sounds, rippin stars,\r\nalarmin' all who saw us we had such scared looks,\r\nfear sucked up from the bases of our beings\r\ntil all I am emerged in my high screams.\r\nNo way I'd be goin in there now again.\r\nShoot me here, Psycho, but I ain't to budge.\r\nBut that Monster she talk about, if that\r\nanything to do with this man here, well then,\r\nI'd be piecing him into my future plans\r\nand not tearin' him out at all. No sir.\r\nNo disrespect to you Mistah Monstur. No sir.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou talk like that to me again, Spliff,\r\nI'll have no care that you my li'l bro,\r\nnone at all. I'll put a cap in you\r\nand not wait to hear the whap your ass makes\r\nhittin' and disintegratin' against the pavement.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nDon't be makin me go back in there.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou ain't worth takin.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nI can give you entrance into their madness.\r\nWould you like to see such ecstatic faces up close?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI did NOT tell you to talk. Keep shut, fucker.\r\nSpliff, go get every last asshole you know;\r\nI want all the troops scooted to my front yard;\r\nany riot within my range goin to be by my hand.\r\n\r\n[Exit SPLIFF and FAST MATTHEW.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nNow. What the fuck were you insinuating?\r\nWhat off-the-wall plan you think you capable of\r\nthat can't do myself for myself twice as well?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nNuthin'. Ain't my way to be tellin you\r\nhow to do and how to be-- that's best\r\nleft up to you, Psycho. I don't know no-how nuthin.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah. Your ignorance clear clear enough to me.\r\nBut I can see my way clear far enough\r\nto listen to your stupidity in clarity.\r\nDon't let nobody say just my hands and not my ears\r\nhas brash audacity. I'll listen. You speak up.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nIt's not me the women praise and kill for;\r\nit's what I stand for; to unify the tribe of man.\r\nThe wicked things and endocrine surges deep in us\r\nthat make Crip and Blood divisions a mere whimsey,\r\nand false dividing of one big WHAT IS\r\ninto two lesser what's nots. I'm the frenzy\r\nand the rage; I'm the gorilla in the cage,\r\nhis wild black heart, his jonesin for the jungle,\r\nbrother, nothin else. No more than a killer's \r\noperatic score. I'm the leopard makes the zebra fall.\r\nI am the tooth. I am the claw. To that feelin'\r\nthere's no known way of rightfully denyin.\r\nFor that, they'll slice up their sons,\r\ncoin treason in their loins, eat sperm\r\nand make strangers' blood fountain for their cause\r\ninstead of your petty internicine rivalries.\r\nCrip 'gainst Crip is cursed. Even Bloods\r\ncan be unified in the chaotic tide whereon I toss.\r\nGot to give this idea its fealty, Psycho,\r\nor for the rest of your 'hood its no go.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nMake chaos my cause! Aii and to it quick!\r\nI'll toss heroes and enemies' heads upon my prick!\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou goin' lose big time, that way.\r\nYour bike wheels be spinnin' skywise at the night.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nEverything I say, you say is wrong.\r\nI must always cease in silence, while your talk\r\nplunges on strong, strong, strong.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou command these kids. Its all\r\nstill up to you to give in and win, or gall.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI just have to give in to their wicked kicks\r\nand kick it, is that it? Hmm, shit-for-brains?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nNaw, not at all! I'll git the wommin' an'\r\nothers back here without a nick and explain plain.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYes. First I let you go. Then you come back attacking.\r\nCan't play that trick on me, I'm too much a prick.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nYou want th' right to kick all and be all\r\nbut don't offer nuthin' more'n a fist to worship,\r\nand that high fist must be your own. Ain't enough.\r\nI'm tryin' to help out, and you pull your attitude.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nGet the flare gun, Spliff. Whiff this!\r\nI'll light up your heart in argent mists!\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nSo you want to see the revelry there on Noir-Mandy?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah. Crazy broads squallin n' all. Suits me.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nAnd why is your heart suddenly alight for the sight?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nNaw; it'd hurt me had to see Shaneesta and <strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nworkin' hard for the Bloods' cause in the splutter-light.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nBut you'd get a quick-dick in that ripping sight?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI guess. If I could stay away in the shadows,\r\ndeep in the dark recesses, myself a doe.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nThey'll sight you, however ecstatic-blighted;\r\nthey're supernatural in this state of excitation. Quite.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI'll go with my boom-box under spotlights, by God!\r\nYou're right, where I walk a God must trod.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nI know what they all jazzed about; should I help?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nTake my arm; I don't wanna stumble, whipped and whelped.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nTake off your Crip's crippled reds. Instead\r\nwear the blowsey blues of the Bloods, arm and head.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nSnare myself in my enemy's cold colors,\r\ndrop my hot reds for the low blues of the others?\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nUnless you can take a teflon-coated in the cortex,\r\nconsider what I say to be your holy text.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah, my ass is grass. I'll do what you say, an' pass.\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nWise.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nThere's a bag a rags in the kitchen, some blues\r\njust my size.\r\n\r\n[Exit PSYCHO SIXTY.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MONSTER<\/strong>\r\nEverything's straight and steady. At the ready.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThe hounds mad, chewing their chains,\r\nwhines gone up from their darkness,\r\ncompact bodies aft of Pentheus,\r\nPentheus aware now of the wine-smell,\r\ndelicate waft of the wine amid mountains\r\nand the howls at first indistinguishable,\r\ngrey in the viney greyness, no more,\r\nnow unsure wind-whine, now stiletto voices.\r\n\r\nMurder's moment is so nearly come. Attend.\r\n\r\nVoices arriving out of midair\r\nPentheus showing his face over his shoulder,\r\nthe beard worried, glint in the eye-spots,\r\nthis out of darkness, not else, a breath\r\nabstinent, unclouded mind of wonderment,\r\nand hounds sounding like arrows thru the foliage;\r\nthru the foliage, racing, racing,\r\nand Pentheus half-turned to hear them.\r\n\r\nMurder's moment is so nearly come. Attend\r\n\r\nMusty singing through the still cypress\r\n\"Evocci! Evocci! Io Zagreus! Io!\"\r\nSlurry chants and maidens singing,\r\ntorchlight, shadows crawling upwards,\r\nyellow shapes on the naked maidens\r\ncuneiform bodies in constant motion\r\nby the deep pool throwing the sounds,\r\nstrange stabs of light sheeting blackness\r\n\r\nMurder's moment is so nearly come. Attend.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SCENE FOUR<\/h2>\n<pre>\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nGet this to the Bloods: all Crips\r\nis either to our side or quits.\r\nTheir troops move to disunity,\r\nbut not to the chaos that makes us free.\r\nMy son's one. Psycho Sixty, they leader.\r\n\r\n<strong>CHINA DOLL<\/strong>\r\nElectrify his entrails.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nStrike out his cancelled eyes.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nLeave him to me. I got him on his Pops,\r\nI'll lop him out. Sisters, keep company,\r\nthese displeasures I'll visit on him\r\nare fit remembrances we shall later sing.\r\n\r\n[LESLIE and EXACTA enter.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nNow where's our Monster got to, you two?\r\n\r\nEXACTA\r\nPsycho Sixty, who had him locked in a box\r\nis sneakin into this wild conjuction,\r\nNormandy and Florence, just this minute.\r\nBut he actin' all weird n' all. He doth\r\nbend his eye on vacancy and converse wit' the empty air,\r\nMrs. Sixty. Nobody wants to get in his way\r\nhe seem so crazy, talkin' to the air that way.\r\nBut I don't see no Monster with him.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nFetch out my straying seed from the wilding field,\r\ncross concrete, leap ditches, fathom fires,\r\nsmell him out like a martyred fart, anything,\r\nthen joyride him back here like the whore he be.\r\n\r\n[Exit LESLIE and EXACTA.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nJustice comes in chains with pain;\r\neach hurtin put a truth to triumphant test\r\ntil all that was silent caterwauls\r\nand the forbidden or hidden leaps clear inta words.\r\nVictor and victim move in unison,\r\none thin ribbon of blood pulled out by a gun.\r\nPsycho, that boy done earned my curses,\r\nthinkin he could put such a power of violence\r\ninto his striking arm, and not have it strike\r\nbeyond him. Once a hit has started it,\r\nall the world must bruise and come to our blood blues.\r\n\r\n[Enter PSYCHO SIXTY, held at gunpoint.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nWho that? That the traitor a my poignant loins?\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nNearsighted tyrant, it's him.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nHog-tie his raggedy ass.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nMoms, what you meanin at here? Sweet momma, think\r\nthis my 'hood you doin me in in. Hold off,\r\nand love me a li'l.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nUse the wire there. Now, I says.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY is tied down.]\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nTight, like he say he like it at night.\r\nTight, tight.\r\n<strong>CHINA DOLL<\/strong>\r\nHe a traitor staight.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nAin't no traitor trait in me, I'm clean,\r\nmerciless ladies.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nSnap him to the hood. My bastard,\r\nyou gonna find out----\r\n\r\n[SHANEESTA punches PSYCHO SIXTY in the balls.]\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nBy every kiss we twisted, it ain't fair,\r\nyou hittin me down there, Shaneesta.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nSuch sweet wishes risin from a shitpile?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYou a bad woman, Shaneesta, givin me lip.\r\nMy balls'll stalk your nightmares and accuse ya.\r\nI'm the one that done says what's what in this hood.\r\nYour creamy hands gots better things to do\r\nthan strip me of my dignity. What else you to do?\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nTruth time. What right you got hoppin\r\non our Monster like you done?\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nTell it straight, cause we know it all.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nWhy you keep him from his connection, son,\r\nmakin an enemy outa the vileness you prize?\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nYou an' he the same, but you buck his blood.\r\nHow come?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nA stranger came to me strangely. Scented,\r\nand with a swagger in his swayin'. How I\r\ns'posed to know he was the Incartion? I ain't Karnac.\r\nSomethin' strange about him. I saw that,\r\nhim talkin tall and walkin the walk. I stopped him\r\nknocked my questions against him, and that\r\nthe finish of it, sisters.\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nSmart.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nLies.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nWhere you gots Monster now?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nWherever he got hisself to, I swear.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nAnswer straight. Where wherever? Ain't you locked him---\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nYeah, where's wherever? Let him speak to that.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI'm blooded, and don't see nothin but wicked fins \r\nin the troubled waters that surround me.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nWhere's wherever?\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nI can't gatekeep his blackness, its fathomless.\r\nHe tripped from my chains a dozen times;\r\nhe turn me to a fool under my own rule.\r\nGots my own Moms hottin' after his ass;\r\nhow he do all that? You treason your sense.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nEnough. \r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nYeah, enough. I'm tired a play-actin' for your pity.\r\nKill me if you wants, you witches and snatches.\r\nI killed<em> him<\/em> already, ladies; he dead as ashes.\r\nGlad I done it too. He beggin' and sweatin,\r\nan' running his hands all down the sides a his bald head\r\nI had shaved naked not a hour before,\r\njust before I came out here to get y'all home.\r\nMy boys are soarin in even now. We got you.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nAin't no seein in your crystal ball.\r\nChina Doll, Shaneesta, hurl him hard\r\nto the ground --now hold, hold, while I put\r\nmy fingers in his seers, and pull, pull.   \r\n  \r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nCruel goddess-- you blight what you brought to light, \r\nthrow your own kitten to an ocean night.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nHis balls will make his eyes look awry,\r\nwe should shorn them also.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nNo seein' and no breedin' for thee.\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nStop it now. Oh God. I never saw what cruel was\r\ntil I did this injustice now allow.\r\nShaneesta, Mrs Sixty, wait a minute\r\nthis angry mist in your eyes will pass by\r\nand you'll see your son in the clear again.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nWhat's that, Spliff?\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nIf I was strapped, I'd snap you out cold,\r\nShaneesta. It's Psycho there, not some anonimity.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nCoward boy!\r\n\r\n[MOMS strides over and chokes SPLIFF.]\r\n\r\n<strong>SPLIFF<\/strong>\r\nLook to kill'em all while you can look,\r\nPsycho. Now I'm gone.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nDumb scum.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nLet night be your nightlight, my son.\r\n\r\n[MOMS plucks out PSYCHO SIXTY's other eye.]\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nI'll pluck his other nut.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nAll lost and heartless. Where my posse?\r\nSoljers, jerk awake and let all L.A. burn\r\ntil night shames the day with its brightness\r\nand every mansion stares with the hovels\r\nin the emancipated rubble.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nDie, rebel-lover. Your troops looted\r\nyour house first on this night that takes\r\nall down. This town a sensesurround earthquake,\r\ndarlin'.\r\n\r\n<strong>PSYCHO SIXTY<\/strong>\r\nHow little harm was in my harming, then.\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nLet him lick his blisters in the streets.\r\nIf we hazard into him again, I'll lift\r\nhis head spiked upon my fist.\r\n\r\n<strong>SHANEESTA<\/strong>\r\nKick him in the balls whiles he pukes\r\nagainst the ravaged wall, scribbled red with Crip script.\r\n\r\n[PSYCHO SIXTY crawls away. FAST MATTHEW follows.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nTeach him to walk. I regret that I ever did.\r\n\r\n[SHANEESTA toys with ball and eye as earrings.]\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n<h2>SCENE FIVE<\/h2>\n<pre>\r\n\r\n[Enter BLIDEYE and ROBBER G holding PSYCHO SIXTY's\r\nheadless corpse between them on their bicycles. TVs\r\nand other loot are balanced on their shoulders.]\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nSad this fate, and slow lows the mourning horn\r\nfor Psycho Sixty, for he is dead.\r\nThe clear hood which was his home and rapist's habitat\r\nclouds now to the divinity of violence unleashed;\r\nPsycho first yelled the killing note,\r\nrobbed and shot to build on human souls\r\nhis bone throne. His terror ruled the roost.\r\nBut the human heart can't be caught in the cage a fear;\r\nwhen your bullet-bought superiority\r\nmost nearly really real that when it spill and fail.\r\nEvery clubbing gun can kill its winsome owner,\r\nno rage obeys even a maniac's harsh rule.\r\nThey more in us than our reason can fool.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nO let us cry at th' tongue, and make tears\r\nruin our hot faces. Let us mourn and torture\r\nthose who from Psycho's Sixty's terrored grip did slip.\r\nLet no spoke pop from his deadened hub;\r\nLet all Crips circle him in his absence still.\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nYou know that not to be, Robber G.\r\nCan't ration our future days on the past, no way.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nYou right, Blindeye. That, I see.\r\nBut why Psycho got to go from us the way he did?\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nPsycho out way beyond our rumor and obeyance\r\nboth now. This you know. Love done gone hollow\r\nlong before this night catched fire.\r\nExtinguish the pity that pisses tears down your face.\r\nClose up your vents of sorrow and see what real.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nAnd what that? What reality is here?\r\n\r\n<strong>BLINDEYE<\/strong>\r\nNo longer the calculation of skins and winces,\r\nthe Crip grip hard-line that Psycho held.\r\nMonster's monster parties are what fallen to us\r\nto behold and motion our current hearts to.\r\nThe ashes this city is this dawn fit into his hand\r\nlike cig'rette ashes in a ashtray. No maybe.\r\nWhy this new sway and danger? I don't now.\r\nIts zappin chaos seems to be what was at center\r\nof all the robbin and high times we had before tho',\r\nthat existential clash of wish and disaster.\r\n\r\n<strong>ROBBER G<\/strong>\r\nHere come a emblem of all hates unhinged;\r\nhis Moms has climbed to violence's apogee.\r\n\r\n[Enter MOMS and SHANEESTA. MOMS has PSYCHO SIXTY's\r\nhead spiked upon her fist and raised high.]\r\n\r\n<strong>MOMS<\/strong>\r\nEternal church of the worst of the worst!\r\nMy dark griefs I bury with the stone cold hopes\r\nmy son's blind fly-ridden eyes symbolically embody.\r\nMy joys, like vampires of the night, burst to unhearse\r\nand frighten the skyline with their terror.\r\nPride riseth not from its golden home, my soul,\r\nto course the darkness with personality.\r\nNeither beauty, as its commonly understood,\r\nnor the apocalyptic treacheries of sincerity\r\nare given root in my dark places, my swaled basements.\r\nOut of my hollows come swelling songs of lust,\r\ntrim triumphs, rashnesses; my arias are mighty\r\nand stones leap up from where I spit.\r\nThe streets are torn where my vengeance drags\r\nand death adds his weeping to my keen sighs. \r\nChipped eyes insinuate the night, daily.\r\nFor I have come to the hole of tornadoes in myself;\r\nmy voice is no voice, I am witness and doer,\r\nmy veins ascend like flowering founts into blood-bloom,\r\nmy dooms are meted out to the righteous and iniquitous\r\nwith equal vigor and violence. I am no-face,\r\nand voids hallow my passing, a black star eating light.\r\nGod's remorseless course is racing through us;\r\nMother night reclaims what daylight lent us.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nNo work in the hood,\r\nnothin comin up;\r\nviolence is drunk by us,\r\nviolence makes us drunk.\r\nPistol, Whippets, China Doll,\r\nTammy, Shakedown, Dog, Larry,\r\nMonster, Crip-boy, Terri,\r\nLinda, boyz and girrls all;\r\nAs men and women we must fall.\r\nToke it, smoke it, better not choke it;\r\nhammer comin down all over dis town.\r\nBack on the street, I is Fleet;\r\nkiller nigga witha attitude,\r\nkiller stare killer cool;\r\nmy hatchet will wack it,\r\nPCPs in my blood will hatch it.\r\nMayhem is my plan,\r\nChaos is my tool;\r\nrod and rocket,\r\nfuck you we gonna lock it.\r\nTribalist hate, lying in state,\r\nCrips whip sissies,\r\nsissies gotta take it.\r\nMake it, can't fake it,\r\nmy blood is buzzin\r\ncause your death isa comin.\r\n.44s, .32s, sawed-off righteous,\r\nteflon bullets come'n kiss this.\r\nWorkin down the alley cool as a cat,\r\nour feet like moonlight, light like that.\r\nNevah mutha-\r\nfuka gonna fuck ya;\r\ncap in yo nappy head\r\nlickin asphalt dead,\r\nmy rule is crimson\r\nhatred is my brimstone;\r\nwalk this world stone alone,\r\nput a cap in my enemy befo I's gone.\r\nVictory, victory,\r\nchaos gettin inta me,\r\nwildnight action,\r\nadidas-fast traction.\r\nOne dis and you get this;\r\nmuthafuckin nevah gonna miss.\r\nHandy, dandy, my colt .49;\r\neffortless, endless,\r\nthese scraggy streets is mine;\r\nhighest, wiredest,\r\nmy flight's so tragic-magic\r\nI paff out the rest best;\r\nI kite it, I bite it\r\nno matter how windless.\r\n\r\nThis which is in me\r\nis my only kin, see,\r\nnothin else can win me.\r\nViolence, violence,\r\nput its crooked root in my tooth,\r\ngrow outa my shadow\r\nto shatter the vacum.\r\nOuter space gonna waste\r\nwhen my god give the nod\r\nand unleash what's within me.\r\nUp from the Dime,\r\ndown to 299,\r\nall the way I'm gonna riot\r\nride it, abide it, alla that fly shit;\r\nnothin ain't no sin, Jammers\r\njust so long as you win, Bamm!\r\nJohn Wayne Gacy, Dick Tracy,\r\nthey all say it and lace it\r\ninside like a sidewinder,\r\njust a little reminder;\r\nLike a Medusa, we'll reduce ya\r\nuntil you crawl in hip-deep;\r\nmake your little sister weep.\r\nYeah, yeah, yo mamma gonna cry\r\nriver a tears, bye n bye.\r\nAin't no offer, I'm gonna off ya;\r\nno amnesty served up with your tea.\r\nWackin and swackin\r\nand crazy-ass crackin\r\nis all you're gonna get\r\nfrom the boyz wit the hit.\r\nThe God a Din\r\ngrowing mighty within;\r\nI puff him and huff him,\r\nI'm down with the dragon,\r\nyour blood, my religion.\r\nDeflower is power\r\nand I get it by the hour.\r\nEvery tear of your fear\r\nI lick until it tickles.\r\nRunnin with a Mustang\r\nchillin with the Gangsta gang\r\nbaffin' with the master man.\r\nYo, color! Yo color!\r\nA militant flip-off\r\nis enough to get ya knocked off.\r\nAdrenelin\r\nrushin in,\r\nflamin it\r\nnever taming it,\r\nmy juice is a mighty tower,\r\nmy snakey spine's a howler.\r\nWhip it, drip it;\r\ncordite smoke, I lip it.\r\nGivin every sign\r\nI'm possessed by the most divine.\r\nYes, it's spastic\r\nbut the girls dig my brass stick;\r\nunwavering they savor it,\r\ngettin humble just to flavor it.\r\n\r\nNow this night is diving\r\nlike wine from a shiv in\r\nsomebody, a stranger,\r\na kid in a manger;\r\ndon't matter, it splatters\r\nits darkness that flatters,\r\nmaking me restless;\r\nI'm up and I get dressed.\r\nNight combat black\r\nto match the sky's black attack;\r\nUnder my old stereo\r\nmy hand spans, there it go,\r\njust like in the rodeo;\r\nI pick up my pistol,\r\nneveah gonna let it go.\r\nOh no, ho no,\r\nout the house, I'm on Patrol.\r\nWho's dat comin\r\nMy heart starts thrummin;\r\nwhatever's out, I'm in.\r\nNothin's ever prettier\r\nthan me and my boyz sittin sure.\r\nOur waistbands are packin\r\nwhen we start the dragnet\r\nIt's an old old story\r\nrosy, erect-reared phalloi,\r\ntestosterone to the bone\r\nbring tha muthafucka rollin home!\r\nPot smoke, ropes of dope,\r\ncrack-smackin, our heads be whackin\r\nwith honey-nugget naked dreams, oi!\r\nWe smash with the mastering noise of the Boyz!\r\nOur eyes like blazin .38s,\r\nheaven's angels at the gate,\r\nsatan's flamethrowers just can't wait\r\nso we shout\r\nwhile our arms sparr routs\r\npickin up the little ones\r\nto teach em all the killin fun;\r\nIn our enemy's fear\r\nour hearts sail clear;\r\nour dreads sled better\r\nwhen they're deader and wetter.\r\nSnortin and flarin\r\nwild and darin\r\nlike some high-wire act\r\nwe dance in the flak\r\nhotter and hotter,\r\ndemented as otters!\r\nMighty in our joy\r\nboyz among boys;\r\nHoly loud-proud\r\nour hand signals make the rounds\r\ntil every fucka in the hood\r\njust wishes that he could or would\r\nthrow his hand around his heart\r\nand break it flaming like kindling wood!\r\n<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Experimental adaptation of Euripides&#8217; &#8216;Bacchae&#8217; to modern-day South-Central L.A. We&#8217;re the kids, we&#8217;re the kids and we don&#8217;t give a shit about tomorrow. Anonymous Song. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honor&#8217;s at stake. Hamlet. Words are no satisfaction for words. <a href='https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/posts\/american-bacchanalia\/' class='excerpt-more'>[&#8230;]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1001002,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1740,1763],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6188","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-plays","category-american-bacchanalia","category-1740-id","category-1763-id","post-seq-1","post-parity-odd","meta-position-corners","fix"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6188","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1001002"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6188"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6188\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7354,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6188\/revisions\/7354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6188"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6188"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6188"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}