Michael Robbins – Alien vs. Predator

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Praise this world, Rilke says, the jerk.
We’d stay up all night. Every angel’s
berserk. Hell, if you slit monkeys
for a living, you’d pray to me, too.
I’m not so forgiving. I’m rubber, you’re glue.

That elk is such a dick. He’s a space tree
making a ski and a little foam chiropractor.
I set the controls, I pioneer
the seeding of the ionosphere.
I translate the Bible into velociraptor.

In front of Best Buy, the Tibetans are released,
but where’s the whale on stilts that we were promised?
I fight the comets, lick the moon,
pave its lonely streets.
The sandhill cranes make brains look easy.

I go by many names: Buju Banton,
Camel Light, the New York Times.
Point being, rickshaws in Scranton.
I have few legs. I sleep on meat.
I’d eat your bra—point being—in a heartbeat.
About Alien vs. Predator

According to the New York Times, poet Michael Robbins is a Rap Genius: He “rhymes Axl with Paxil” and “knows more than you do about Jay-Z and Lil Wayne.”

As Robbins could probably tell you, Cam'ron said “capsules of Paxil” first, but Robbins was featured in The New Yorker and Cam, to our knowledge, has never submitted to “Shouts and Murmurs.”