Thug Dance (day 1577)

I’m an East Van thug
I’ve got dimes for your eyes
I wrote empty lines
For shoes your size.

Beats’n’bustin
And breakin signs,
I’ve locked this hood
On playing this rhyme

Crack crack
Break a ga-lack
Break your mother fuckin’ knees
Smack; my attack

From Hasting’s to Oppenheimer
To Railtown smokin’ crack
These pimps are all small time
Knock’n at my back.

I’ve got thugs in my pocket
From Strathcona to Clark
Commercial to Main,
Remember sucker, East Van’s the land

All you rebels cryin’ loud
My shit’s locked tight
Now strap on your booties,
Baby, let’s dance!

Nite Mare - Ned Tobin - East Van Candy Gangster

Opine (day 1074)

I was born into a centrifugal force,
A suction cup of heartache, of proverbial effort;
Cause and effect.
A slow line moving along Granville St.,
Caught in excitement of teenage free spirits:
Fashionably conscious and disregarding etiquette.
A night life on Hastings
Wish-washing lines between law and desire;
Societies dream of an everlasting image
With a reason for being a mother-fucking
Pop icon.
This is a history book documenting trend-setting hipsters,
Glossy pages filled with alluring sex tips.
Designed for those of us left standing on Commercial
Wondering: “who the fuck’s opinion even matters?”