raptors poems

port seasons are my only temporal reference

a reminder that rivalries are trivial in the offffff -season

i hope that it’s fine that i do what i want

not often, just sometimes

clap for me

millionaire airline ceo or something

and drink sprite, i mean

quench your thirst, if you want to

do my tattoos make me look like a basketball player?

it’s an aesthetic i’ve always loved

since allen iverson

talked about practice

i wasn’t that young

i don’t think

i’ll ever sit in the

mastercard preferred customer section

two granola cookies

seemed healthy

an alternative

to other things

i won’t name

my white nike prestos

coors light sticky

no metaphor

poem for aaron gordon:

you

are

nothing

clap clap

clapclap

clap

washroom poem#1:

who pissed on the flflfl oor?

everyone, i guess

washroom poem #2:

i’m disappointed

with how my dick looks

in public washroom lighting

otherwise, everything is fififi ne

all my rushing contacts

second quarter magic

double zero gets blocked

i really wanted the

half-time-belgian-bicycle-guy

to not get majorly injured

but defififi nitely a bit hurt

i mean, entertainment

this is what happens when you only play nine games but act like

you played eighty two: you get exiled to another country. i’m upset,

trade derozan for kawhi i can’t accept. na, they ain’t snake my man

like that. i’m just like derozan, if i shoot it goes in. y’all got any spurs

derozan jerseys yet? breaking up the bench mob. san antonio, i used

to live there. any player that’s deciding to go to toronto, you need to

know your gm will tell you to your face “i’m not going to trade you”

and less than a week later - trade you. can’t trust em. ain’t no loyalty

in this game. sell you out quick for a little bit of nothing. damn

they really got a guy who been saying publicly he doesn’t want to

play with him. we could have got his ass for less. haven’t seen him

play with injured quadriceps. this gonna be a day toronto prolly will

regret.

bruh derozan going offffff the grid. poor man did everything for that

city and still got sold out. i ball out my city derozan, shooters they

with me they rollin’. pop dipping in two years and gonna leave

becky hammon with a basketball wasteland. prime time clyde drexler

in the regular season. if i see a burning derozan jersey, you’re dying.

my mans was already fififi ghting depression. damn. he was loyal

to the soil. i feel like derozan, a costco kobe. a lone star demar.