glass pane

ripped seatbelt and a six piece bag of receipts from a lease i never released cause the stems came back with a peak

in the midrange, depleted the clean sheen i needed, my seat leaned, sleep deprived and still read three briefs

needed a stream ready sequence for a teaser, speaker peakin, eatin wings on a green seat

where i tweaked the preamp, and cleaned each take with a screen protector peelin

i've been ten feet from defeat and still penciled heat with a teeth grit grin

didn't sleep, just hit send on a draft with a deep breath pen and a steep debt pending

read ten emails in a sequence while a beatsmith friend from tennessee sent back feedback from a bistro bench

my earbuds crusted, bus pass tucked in a Reese’s wrapper from the week before

deadlines and still kept the tone like a speech, i've breathed relief into feeds

been deemed elite in threads where memes get edited with dream remixes, street vendors screaming specials

i write in a sleep state, steeped in grief weight, reread essays, press sessions with preset stress and a key

chain mic, reset diction with less tension and more frequency, meanwhile, i'm six feet deep, knee deep in latency

leaned over cracked screens at 3:13 while i knee capped fees from three freelancers who needed me to read between three fees for a feedback package

recite my speech in a remix patched with deletes and temp takes, pen shakes, two minute stems laced in a template

i need keys to the session and at least three weeks, repped deep sleep like a theme suite

ate late at a cafe with a back plate full of plantains and a tray with my last name misspelled

while i saved a session on my macbook that was taped together with gaffer tape back

packed through the city with a canvas case full of stickers from a place that i ran late

to cause the train had delays from a crash, and i still made weight, shaved ten takes, and escaped

gave flame scores to legends at the apex of their wave phase, i day traded wi-fi for plates

at a half charged shared space in a glass frame office park in the flat gray shade of a city

where the tap stayed warm like the air made space for the static, i've wrapped crates in a Chase bag

backpack saggin, half paid off with a cashapp flash code on a cracked phone case with a passphrase written in black paint

i fast scanned through a recap with a playback stat that tracked where my shit hit a glass pane

ceiling and still made waves on a jazz tape played back in a cab where we blazed past eighty

while the gas gauge barely stayed stable, faced eight placements on a gray slate basement

gray Vans and some prepaid shit taped to a nameplate, playin in campaigns

in a train car packed with a stray jazz band playing straight through a glass vase

ransacked those same chains with a campaign plan that replayed with an insane rate

spacecraft chair in a bad state, mad drained but the last eight made me have to paint my name

on the grain of a pathway, fast paced cash game based on a bad faith ad rate, passed a backspace laced with a grad student's last page essay

execute smoother than Lupe reciting mural, while my shoes grip floors like glue, and i do this

without a need to prove it to dudes who pursue clicks, or boost views with reviews which are loosely tuned to illusions and youtube news clips

my usage rate makes usage break, i'm too equipped, nuance of moonlight, proof of a newsprint tip

move like a unit, cue the producer tag and resume, go through rulesets and never lose breath