Marvel Girl

I’m a B-Boy

And as a B-Boy, I know the 2nd rule

Of going to the jams:

You don’t go to meet girls


They usually arrive pre-packaged

As some cat’s girlfriend or reluctant date

Hanging with airtight with crew

Not even thinking about you


But every now and then, here she is

A little tremor in your world, short convo by the bar

And the blueprints for a crush unfurl

Let me tell you about that girl from that night


She had me from the beat-drop

Rhythmcentric girl

Alter gravity with shift-of hips

Sweatsuit instead of business suit


Handle business by any means type-of-girl

Soft as hot candle wax inside

Hard as tempered steel inside

Down for whatever loyalty


Got her style on lock, rockin’ silver and black

Because of how it throws the light back

Chrome-colored tag- MARVEL- on her kicks

She’s that girl and she’ll write it in Technicolor


She danced on her own

But returned my every glance as if telepathic

Twisted top rock into backspin

Shifting balance of the club telekinetically


As acrobatic as she is spectacular with vernacular

Drops poison honey on the mic like you love it

Compelling with killer couplets

And got her chocolate in my peanut butter!


Nikki Giovanni meets round the way girl

Puts the “bad” in “badass”

Skills to issue the bills,

Name-checked in a Dan Sully poem kind-of-girl


Smack 50 Cent, French kiss him

And smack that motherfucker again

On general principal type-of-girl

Attitude high in altitude and a wealth of self-respect


Met this girl when I was 10 years old

Dances to the beat of reincarnated souls

Drops verses over heartbreaks

And makes mosaic love with the pieces


She approached my over the DJ’s coda

Arms-length then closer

Close enough to hear

“You… you’re not ready!”


See I’m a B-Boy

And I know the first rule of going to the jams:

Come correct or not at all

I’m more than ready


I’ll match that girl move for move

Block to block, word for word

Burn brightly on broken walls for that girl

I burn for her like the third rail


Usually, careful or what I wish for,

I gracefully leave the dancefloor

Infatuation in 10 digits

Delivered to her backpack before she bounced


I awoke to a message from her:

“You had me from the beat-drop. I’m down”

“Last night a B-Girl saved my life,” I replied,

 “See you at sundown”



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Last updated: April 27, 2008 

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