<Frank Buck>
hey hey lookie here shuga > yo' so sweet! > > what got into yo' bones dat yo' be so poet-like, > masterin' the rhythms of > the universe, mad-packin' da metaphors like a youse > settin' da rulez? > > is there a woman in the House, the House of Golden Boy's > Woe? > pray tell--- - - - -

<Golden Boy>
same ol' spice setting fire to the waters of reason. cruel love comes creepin in through the calm rage within. no respite from her wayward whisper. she prods the open lesions of my pride. parched emotions scream for the mist rising from her body. frigid justice, relentless mercy. fleeting time.

<Frank Buck pops a wheelie>

<Golden Boy>
love-less strikes a chord, resonates an empty corner of the heart. forgotten beat, like yesterday's promise she never kept. no matter, don't need that futile organ. got a transplant, my heart for a kazoo.

- - - - - - - - - > {left a good job in the City}