I hear it's retrograde and I'm looking for meaning
In the Reader's Digest explaining Murphy's Law
Telling me what goes wrong will go wrong
And it's right on the money 
           because honey
My transmission is stuck in reverse.

As usual, I have been living my life and there's too much going around that I haven't even bothered to mention war.  Which one?  There's more.  I don't even feel like getting into it.  
Retrograde is a bitch.  Or maybe an excuse? 

Slammed a poem on Monday and messed up and actually froze, and I wasn't even stoned.  That's alright because I didn't care.  It's better that way.  Whatever happens, right?  At least I got in for free.  I'm not a performer by all means.  I think my first slam was better, but it went over their heads so in reality it wasn't very good.  I didn't tell them it was about Floyd and the Chauvin trial.  I figured they could pick it up, but I think the judges are looking for a different beast.  I don't do justice for the words I throw down on the plate.  My plate is full anyways.  Or at least I would like to say it is.  While it is true, I give myself time to chew.

Got to see Jericho Brown last week.  He's a Pulitzer Prize Poet.  A kindred soul, I believe.  The darkness in him is different, but the same.  I ordered his books.

 Crazy dreams, but I have been putting those in other places.  Triggered from a bagel they made into Everything Everywhere All at Once.  Beginning to see more representation.  The secrets are spilling out.  Now we're tattling on the elders with stories of generational trauma, but I guess it's good to see that mirror in the media.  Move on.  Heal.  Let's do it together.