Hear the boast on the radio:
“I’m larger than you.”
“I got more loot than you do.”
Hear it on the the YouTube,
Music video.
Hear it, heard it, learned it.
Hearsed the verse so many times
It started sounding sublime.
All these large ones. All that outsized loot -
Makes them happy. What’s not to like?
Seems to be a theme. A common dream?
Empire State Scream.
An achievement we die for and aspire to,
A scheme we beam over and over on hiphop radio –
Hullo.
I like paper, too, you know?
I seen a man in Geneva make a ten-second tiger
Out of a new 500franc note. Swiss - what else?
How you like that?
I liked the crinkle. The crackle.
I like moolah when it’s tangible.
I like stacks too,
But so what?
Who doesn't dream of a big pad,
A bigger palace?
A fortress floating in the middle of a Rajasthani lake
AT NIGHT?
Fine. Like is easy.
Strategic exits require frogmen mingling with the bogmen.
Lake stagnosis? You don’t wanna know.
Drop the O tank. Hospital drop if my watch is stopped.
Ankle the ones that know. The stalkers, the would-be cats
Be nothing but gawkers. Shaking the grape vine for extra Fx.
Whatever, yo.
If you wanna sell me some O, throw in a lacquer pipe as well.
An elbow rest. A concubine? No. Wrong number. Try the 6 Motel.
Time is capital. Capital don’t exist.
Not for creatures prouder about quickness than tax kickbacks.
Back hair on male desk dogs at the IRS.
My best friend’s a panther.
How you like that?
I try to be humble but how to succeed when your sidekick’s an apex apogee
On a chill one.
Engagement? Forget it.
Detachment? It’s basic.
Showdowns? For John Wayne.
My friend from the leopard family,
Accustomed from millennia to represent the grandee in vigilante -
When pressed, terrorism suits his skillset best.
Have no fear.
Panther dislikes nothing more than hype and hot air
And muscles that stretch.
Skills - for P, they’re more like defects. Survival reflex.
Rather never use them at all?
This sort of comradeship you can’t buy with all the world’s paper.
So.
Whatever.
What’s the panther think?
What’s the panther think?
You wanna know?
Fine.
Let’s try and enter the panther mind -
No forgetting - this panther’s mine. Or I’m his.
Get between us, you’ll be knees first, head bowed:
Air-singing the English word sorry.
Like Christian gospels could wing it?
An apology, most sincerely, on the balance hangs World Peace -
It’s still ain’t my worry.
There’s no protocol on earth
That could dissuade one from Rebirth.
There’s no mine large enough,
No quarry unionised up the buff.
No Ritz, larger than the sapphire inside my cortical front.
I’m not greedy.
I’m just, like, I seen enough already.
Downward mobility - robbing geriatrics on the Stannah Stair Lift!
You hear what I tell you, then you go home.
Zip tight. Knowledge never was all for sharing –
Ask the governors running this world
Whether it’s Tony Blairing or, like, No Tone, No Blair,
No Witch - no box office! What’s worse? Is it a svengali or a wife called Cherie?
I don’t track labours even if they be Herculean.
I dwell newly in the global south and my biggest issue is Prometheus.
Opinions? Yup. Light a candle.
Dip a wick in. Be certain John Wick ain’t showing.
Technically, this me belongs to the panther’s conscious.
It’s not like he features in my private screening room.
Not like he’s safari rastafari - although he might be, well?
All kinds. Interpreters also.
I got eyeballs, no more.
I’ll handle my experience and you - sweetie - you handle yours.
Point being: the no.1 lens is in his head.
Mine? I’m just one of eight billion,
With a Go-Pro strapped to the skull to download photovaults.
There goes the revenue,
Into Zuckerberg’s curly-haired accounting revue.
Not my deal. I never paid a due on time and that’s fine
‘Cos I’m a scribe, and I take my time.
Besides, social platforms rep’ small returns to big minds.
World currency. What a fabulous thing?
Me? What am I holding? Who wanna know?
Good question - slam the brakes!
Back the F up: Chris Cyphy is wracking his brains
Faster than you can burn every hymn labelled JERUSALEM.
Plizz.
Spare me.
Solar Winds. It’s where my loved ones’ gelt is going.
Super fast? Your call. Fast money like Oasis -
Superband that had grace and melodies quite gracious.
If not entirely efficacious.
Green and pleasant land X ecstasy and a quarter milli ravers.
Press for free. Return custom guaranteed, even with a casket basket Liam in wake.
Sorry.
Noel and me, we once lived in the same street. No beef. You feel me?
I once strapped a guitar player to a 2-inch amp.
I’m too soft - I know, I know.
If you’re looking for a bride,
De la Renta’s the man -
It would appear I’ve gone off on a tangent.
Solar Winds. LLC or inside-trade variety -
Comme ca, comme ci.
C’est ou se trouve le blé du futur.
Voici.
And, by the way -
Fuck them savannah poets and their binocular panics!
Woe Is.
Ghetto or high-rise, I don’t care.
The animal precedes and proceeds to feature me.
It can’t work vice-versa.
Humanity. Yuh, the manatee -
Get in line, ADD babies.
Disclaimer complete.
Get your own checkout line, this jungle queue is complete.
All right.
Here we go now.
Here we go.
Pantherine.
Panther - can see it all.
See it all HOW.
No biggy -
Panther FEELS it all, clown.
Consider that.
Gently.
Gently.
Gentle’s the way of the panther.
Nocturnal rollers.
Allergic to disturbance and interferers.
Obstacles are no predicament, none they prepare for.
Allergic to shamen and bush vets plus tranq-dart chips -
In the name of science?
P replies with silence and a stare that sparks on glimmers on fireless nights.
P don’t do that.
Cats like him don’t MTV their own kingdoms.
MTV does cats -
Different thing.
Bigger budget. 2. High risk.
The telescope turns.
Don’t overthink it.
Stay blind, cross-eyed or stay stopped at a train junction long after succuum.
This cat, P, he ain’t no Vegas lion, doped up to the back of the eyeballs –
Not at all.
Not remotely.
Animal slavery?
Tick a different box.
File P under Outlier.
File P under Nightflyer –
Panther is as he is.
Panther’s pure.
Panther’s the king that didn’t want the throne that was his.
P left it for the lion to make his own.
Panther is prince.
P is P.
Politesse comes naturally.
Let's confess, it's a socially approved alternative to removing a pin,
Chucking one in - the congregation - and doing one.
Lion became The Big One instead.
Can’t blame ‘em -
Not with that mane!
That’s another story, like Walt Disney.
Like the tiger family. Like the creation of paper in Asia and –
So many other gifts we’ve been bequested.
We’re all inheritors, fuck the ancestors.
We got this. The score? The takeaway?
The value compaction?
Real or literal?
Bottom line? This is what it is –
It’s cognitive.
That’s the takeaway.
Cognitive.
Sixth sense.
Secret formula? Novel product?
Real zoo pets are working at the hypermarket.
Cognitive. Put it under your hat.
Supercognitive. That’s the realest frontier.
Keep it to yourself or you’ll get burned by witches in Salem,
By MacCarthy in the West Wing - worst case, by the Falun Gong.
Moons rise. They shed light on landscapes all night.
Half-moon rays, for panther pals it equals a klieg light –
It’s relative, sure. P sees in murkest dark all night
And, eyes closed, during the day he knows all possible plays in his half-
Trance-sleep.
And more. Beyond the line. Like a NFL diagram for a quarterback that couldn’t
Give a damn. He knows two rules:
You got ‘A’. You got ‘Z’. You got too much effort getting one to one.
Fuck that -
Why not intercept? Beats linking two dots instead.
He doesn’t much prey. He doesn't prey at all.
Doesn’t amass acquisitions or pantheresses, not even -
Not as far as we know.
That part’s private. Even for a privateer, elegant like a Tudor pirateer.
Confidential like a long-lost box of the Crown’s treasure in the Tortugas -
Or?
Who cares? Down goes the plane, face-bath time for Carlos Lehder.
Fish schools swim on.
What P does when a feline of his kind crosses his radar?
Not our business.
We’re just bipeds.
Let’s not get ahead of macrocosmics.
Want to know?
Consider this.
Feel the quickness of his vanish. Think cool fur -
And bow your head to the glow wrists hiding in the echoes of a night’s shadow.
Where’s P now?
You’ll never know.
The only giveaway? A single stream of blue. At most.
Darkness gave him his coat after all.
Where’s he now?
Where’d that bloody panther go?
Ideas? GPS?
He’s got zero.
Untrackable,
A bit like a post office scandal.
Inside his mind, it’s all Omega –
I gotta be honest with ya.
Alpha was a given, back at birth:
Like a native ism.
Dominion: no consideration.
It’s all in the blood.
Panther Nation.
No need to claw at moneybags.
Panther don’t spend and
He’s too fast to pay anyway.
He’s my best friend.
I hope he waystays with me some more days.
Took us time to become brothers,
Myself and the P of P’s.
Creature lies peacefully, supremely:
Just above me.
Has a thing for trees –
The longer the limb, the sweeter the sling.
P never begins things.
P never seals deals. Closure isn’t his thing.
P thinks, like: Fuck. Whatever. They’re your deals.
I’m self-proficient. I run on me.
I’m a straight up panther. I don’t need no props
To make me fancier.
Treat me aboriginal, I’ll boomerang a Bermuda triangle across hyena high plains
Where lions pick and yawn. No rush here. Nodding off, where cognition begins.
The thought never did occur to P -
Even if Hermes can’t get enough of him and his.
They never can, never will.
It's why it's spelled SCARCITY.
When you’re the answer, questions become a blur.
P won’t hear queries, first of all.
P won’t cogitate on questions.
Recognizes no moment but now. Preconceptions.
In the realm of the P, night is calm, night is eternal.
So, no hurry. Obstacles exist not
So much as hypothetically.
Unmanifested is how it stays.
Unless there’s lightning in the air -
The only good reason for a P to go mooching beyond the lair.
It’s easy.
Way high up the food chain.
Easy life. No strain. No gaming.
P makes it look a triple breeze
‘Cos P’s, even when attacked, they’re the last of all to react.
Count on it.
They may turn away, anyway.
Turn invisible? Leap a thousand yards in a blink, not a stare.
They reserve their skills for the extraordinarily predatory.
And even then, they may well not bother.
Lift a paw? It’s improbable.
Unpredictable. For sure.
P’s have a high sense of what’s of no regard and what’s tolerable.
Leap now. Arrive yesterday.
That’s fast. Quantum Leaps
You never see.
They may confront if there’s no route around, just through the jungle -
They may.
More likely to wait.
In the jamb of a tree, respirating noiselessly.
P’s be civilised.
Make their kills on the quiet.
Their fur never shows the blood from their diet.
P’s act like there never would or could be no foes.
Even occasional mistakes, they feed errors no proprietary focals.
In a physical way,
If you ever have the ear of a P’eer –
It’s as close as you’ll get to the man in the moon. A long way beyond the dude in the mirror, that's ofay!
No diatribe.
Do Not Perturb.
Nothing.
At.
All.
Peace remains on earth.
P’s still reign on earth.
P = peace,
99.99% of the time.
Piraeus, Athens.
August 2, 2025.
