(from Dokkodo, Volume 1; The Way of Walking Alone)

SP1200 pads cracked, dry
skin covering ashy knuckles
bleed, and Preemo’s his name

brow furled, hard-knocking
beat released, punch-in-your-face
snare, kick-in-your-stomach bass

hip-hop made from scratch

a scratch
his scratch
itched
and music made

hours crate diggin’
rhythm, sampling
a sonic break
alone most nights
he stays awake

women never understand

the appeal the crowd
mass chanting his name
heads bobbing in unison
all giving head, hand
to beastly breaks

a fountain of Redding springs
on the dock of the bay
Preemo rises to forever stay
giving rhythm to voice
to community

This poem is part of my last poetry and photography chapbook, “Dokkodo; Volume 1—The Way of Walking Alone” available online at http://mkt.com/smiley-faze.