In a minute, the timer goes off,
And in a minute, I sound off.
Yo, Zoloft made me go soft, soft in mind, soft like dough,
soft in my zip code, soft in my pocket,
had me locked in my closet, an alcoholic, with no money in my wallet.
I nonchalant got off it, and been ripping robotic, toxic narcotic, had a dream about it.
So, you played the punching bag to my wrist watch, said Fuck that, come back out of the dark,
Sad, she grabbed the match, lit it, and underneath it was a mask. COVID lifted.
She spoke to me, said I was gifted, said the curse was lifted, and I was it.
So, I grabbed my Easter bonnet, and a watch and an egg timer said I be the mad man manic
meat grinder, beast rewinder, kept my mind entwined,
wined and dined her, made sweet love, oh gravy, 9 months later.
Here comes the baby. We can name it after her mother, depending on if her mother loved her.
Oh well, that’s either one or the other.
Did I s-t-stutter, nope, No I didn’t.
So, get rid of this nitwit in this instant, it’s magnificent, a gift, God gave it, and I write like
shoes on pavement, spray-painted the garden green, and there my face went with it.
Dilla beats, God Rest Dilla, he’s got his MPC in the key of Space, and he kicks the can all over the
          place.
And it goes a little like this,
a little like that, what,
a little like this,
a little like that,
a little like this,
a little like that.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His latest book is Train of Thought.