Original rap/poetry by Larry Montague. Copyright © 2012 Larry Montague. Permission required for reproduction.

"castles in air"

what if i was never heard?
an unsound like absurd advice
bright panache for its own sake
i’m a lonely bird of paradise searching through green stratums
my eyes are a pair of dice, flitting—never landing on the same place twice
the verve that i put into the verse is highly rehearsed
but only as good as you feel at your worst or you won’t listen still
rewind like a fishing reel
and see me trade in my equipment for a studio apartment in mission hill
made my pilgrimmage to the chilled limits of the blank abyss
and documented the excursion like the journals of robert scott
will i reinhabit this spot? probably not
‘cause the door to equilibrium is oddly unlocked
bet on a long shot and squandered the flock
looking at the big picture, thought: this gotta be cropped
true depression wore a villian’s mask
my approach: Dylanesque
shelter from the storm is positively hip hop
slinging science on writer’s block for twenty-twelve
written as the year when the pillar of money fell
in gold we trust
but ‘forced worship stincks in God’s nostrils’
i cast into the wilderness like roger williams was
and stumble on a providence impossible to fudge
denouncing practices that put sea otters into sludge
crying over spilled oil, drilling for our well-being
contemplating hell freezing

stay away from me

unified when the two colored keys no longer stand apart
but rather bounce arm in arm and melt your candle heart
bold and brazen as a vandal’s mark
still we offer up the message in the soft hands of art
as new man embarks upon lands to charter
i’ve learned it’s smarter to be a part instead of a prince
i’ve worked hard from the start
and ever since i shock the pessimists with stark benevolence
i examine myself in famine and health
and i know fear lurks in camo with stealth
but i never fall for its sport
for i shape the game like a mayan ball court
within i built a higher walled fort ‘case the fire roared forth
kept an eye toward the source of the iron horse exhaust
no service, couldn’t decline the call of the north
evaded the sprawl and the fall of the front porch

stay away from that field, suburbia!
get your hamster tunnels out of here, suburbia!
we do not want your styrofoam meat, flammable produce or zero percent juice
all-natural is hardly a truce
quit standing on that bison’s grave, suburbia!
move!