CHALLENGER'S RAP

• just fuck it like always. my mind and body want more contact. personally
• i'm feelin' utterly psychotic. managing my emotions so robotic. fucc the icon
• not tryna be nothin' short of iconic. fucc. and i'm so unsure, so I'll keep on typing let my anger process thru my writing
• it's always a dark thought when I awake, and a lonely sigh when the
• lights finally die. it's just a dark space to live in loneliness. so i'm just
• going to keep on typing. process my anger thru my writing. what is the point
• you know? what are my ambitions? and what are the conditions?
• ice and fire, water and dehydration. felt myself leaving the earth when i
• boarded that plane. six ounces of oregon's finest dro and a laptop full of all of oregon's nuclear codes. prolly? i board'd
• that plane. seein' the curvature of the earth after i scope'd dat coral snake
• watch in the gucci store while on my layover in san francisco international.
• feet on the ground in tel aviv. my only currency... a single jordanian dinar.
• walkin' around. meetin' solider bearin' his rifle. traffic control tellin' me
• there's another way i gotta go. seein' the open door to a m-five bomb
• shelter. too soon to give up. i'm not goin' underground for no reason. find a
• route and hop onna bus with no price. german uniforms. guardians of the
• city, driving past old building blown out by car bombs and other missile
• explosions. hop off the bus somewhere. see the signs of protest and riot.
• holes in sheet metal. dilapidated schools or should i say shuls? yeah, zero
• currency but i hop in the cab anyway. heading to yad vashem in the hills of
• jerusalem. fight with the cabby and leave my bag and everything. whatever,
• we all gonna die anyway. walking the grounds of holocaust remembrance.
• half-brain-dead. phone in my pocket bluetooths on my head. one two liter
• bottle of water. the sun sets and i'm alone sleeping on the stone. mossad
• brings me the rude awakening and i'm sent along after talking to a fellow citizen.
• alone in the hillish mountains of jerusalem. my water supply drains away. i hear the people
• singing in the hills, and i sleep again for a minute. sniper shots wake me and
• i'm hustling forward, snaking my way thru the ancient city. mist from the sea
• drifts cold in the morning isolation, asleep again on a concrete basketball
• court. see a few devout and a neighbor or two, seeing cars and feel the
• heat enter back into the day. water bottle empty. pick up a peach pit and
• put it in my pocket. dusty roads, massive machinery carving huge tunnels
• beneath the mountains. old buildings and bunker lookin' structures lookin'
• like they're ready to withstand explosions. terrifying and rudimentary survival
• methodology. keep walking thru the fields of killer bees. pick up a second
• peach pit. too out of reach to reach out for help. water evaporates from my
• skin and my thoughts scream from my lungs because there's no piece of my
• soul left to tether me back into social reality. screams from the roadside,
• feeling the impending genocidal slaughter rip the peace from out of the
• inside of the marrow of my bones. fucc. voices keep callin' to me to continue
• pushing. looking for water, but there's nowhere to find it. keep putting one
• foot in front of the next. see a final peak with miles of road ahead. a final
• effort to complete my search. i find my third peach pit. find a plastic bottle
• on the side of the road and take a swig. i'm thinking it was antifreeze? why?
• i'm dying with every step and then i finally get to the top. two kind faces hand
• me cold water. i drink a bit and then eat a biscuit. vomit it all up and it's
• bright green like antifreeze. what? walk another hundred yards until i reach
• the final moment. my absolute limit and a young woman calls the ambulance.
• i see the orthodox curls of the paramedic as he inserts the intravenous saline
• drip as the world goes white and the pain leaves my body and for a moment
• all the brutality is gone and it's just me and the goddess. voices call me back
• into the dirt and pain and sadness and anger and frustration and shame and
• guilt and fear and fear and fear and fear. and i'm taken to the hospital. strange
• beautiful, elderly people in the beds next to me. soldiers standing at the ready
• walking barefoot to the bathroom. exhaustion and pain overwhelming every-
• thing. passport in my pocket, government papers with my signature. social
• workers mad at my complete lack of money. call mommy and get my back
• into u.s. custody. flight back into the states. layover in chicago? barely even
• remember how it went down. shoulda die'd. woulda die'd. how much i cried.
• more than two years ago. i watched. i saw the borders close. shutting off the
• water supply into gaza. then the kidnappings. and the hostages and the death
• and murder. and now i'll never go back to that same place again. swear i saw
• robert downey when i touch'd down in ben gurion. i swear danilo kamber was
• there, too. that was in twenty-twenty-two. so, i've been lying here sick, brokenhearted death by brain damage, poverty, and loneliness.