BEEF AND BROCCOLI Ely Key
I got more beef than broccoli these days. My timbs is all muddy. They used to be bloody, but in my neighborhood there’s a lot less meat packing these days. More packaging of clothing, packed lines through the streets. Even the mafia’s movin’ outward, no one left to mix the human innards with the cow’s blood. But new blood seeps in, transitions like a funnel; It’s an island with little space Now everyone’s bridge and tunnel. So I got more beef than broccoli these days, and these Inn’s that comin’ in, Man, they ain’t no Holidays. Were talking five start hotel, fuck it, it’s a moon. I thought it was bright enough before, and summer’s coming soon, we would take it to the court 70 | INSIGHT
and play under the moon, until your moon status hotel blocked the fuckin’ view. I hate to be rude, but this is what I do, I sit back with a crew, kick it on a stoop, and watch the people walk by who just haven’t got a clue. “I heard it was dirty before.” (Voice of a rich lady) I think its dirtier now, but prostitutes never bothered me, until they became trendy and drew a crowd. So I got more beef than broccoli these days. My timbs is all muddy. And I’m slippin’ trying to study if this gentrification is nutrition or a give in, but you wanna know something that can really complicate? In order for me to stay, I gotta get paid. Check it, my sister and her husband