Grateful Hussle
A poem dedicated to Robert Hunter and Nipsey Hussle. Read the poem below or scroll down for our short film with me reading the piece.
Preface: My dear friend
insisted I check out Substack, and though I’ve only been dabbling for a week here, I get it. Substack seems like a great opportunity for someone like myself: an independent publisher and writer.I’ve been on this path since I published my first zine in 2007. I’ve published five books of my own, one climbing children’s book by D. Scott Borden and Mallory Logan, and a total of 25 zines. A few years ago I also started the Dirtbag State of Mind podcast.
As an effort to build up a base of stories here, I’m sharing some of my favorites; with some annotation, film, and photography, to make things a bit more interesting.
Today I’d like to share this poem, inspired by two brilliant writers that we lost in the last few years: Robert Hunter, the lyricist for Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead, and Nipsey Hussle, the visionary entrepreneur and rapper.
I hope you enjoy. At the end of this piece you can find the film I made with Jake Burchmore, inspired by the poem.

This poem is dedicated to Robert Hunter and Nipsey Hussle.
From Anderson . Paak to Jack Kerouac
Beatnik, hippie, hip-hop, dirtbag
I got your back
Been dabblin’ in Bob Dylan
Since 1995
Got my common sense from Common
Who used to be Common Sense
Deadhead since ’95
When Jerry was still alive
Like Nipsey Hussle
I got on the bandwagon
A week before he died.
True story.
I thought my life’s path had been denied
But Jerry’s death gave me
Another breath
Instead of dosin’ my way to death or jail
I found another dangerous way to prevail
Climbing these rocks
Dipping into this bag of chalk
For the answers
And I’ll admit
It was white male privilege
That allowed me to do this
But it’s my privilege to put this dose of prose
In anyone’s ear who will listen
Any race, any gender, any sexual orientation
One world
One love
But back to the ABCs
Got my doctorate in chronic from Dr. Dre
Didn’t have the role models
’99 came along and it was Eminem
Darkest of the dark days
Times could have been easier than Eazy-E
But fuck it I flunked out with an F
Could have easily taken my last breath
In the last days of ’99
But that Y2K
Was as whack as Trump is today
Graduated from Dr. Dre to Mos Def
From Snoop to Lauryn Hill and Wyclef
So I kept breathing
And then I started feeding
Y’all my own words my own pain
And glory
Started telling my own story
Luckily in 2000
God gave me an eternal gift
Like the Gift of Gab of Blackalicious
I started praising the most high
High on Mother Nature
I started to let go
Of the I
And realized this was some bigger shit
And not just this big pimpin’ shit
Even tho Jay-Z is something of a hero to me
Any day tho I’ll take 2003 Talib Kweli
2001 killed our generation’s kindness
Couldn’t kill them with kindness
And then Bush’s blindness
But I was content with the rucksack and the chalk bag
Living out of a tent, and not paying rent
Too young, but already too old for war
Had the blessing to meet some who came back from Iraq
Or Afghanistan
Every chance I can
I’m not hateful
I’m grateful
Like the Dead.
But I had something on my mind.
That someone someplace ought to be hearing.
And flash forward one of my favorite rappers is No Name.
Turned on to by Chance The Rapper after a change in the game.
I sling my words and poems in the same way. No way,
Am I not owning my own publishing rights.
Gotta fight for your right to write, like my man Slug.
And I’m on this love ode
Went down many roads
Pulled over by the police
But they never busted me
Even though I had shrooms on me
Put my prayers out there
And asked many questions
Put Talib Kweli and Quality over quantity
With Phife on a Climb Called Quest
And ended up back at me
Ran for the roses
And ended up with doses of proses
And a renewal as old as Moses
Ran back up to the mountaintop
To ask Dr. Martin Luther King
What should I be?
Saw the answer at the sunrise
Even though I’m not a morning person
And said it was love
Truth be told though
This human mess
Is so complex
Like sex
Under it all
We’re the sum of something
Living under the sun
Might as well have some fun
And fight for what is right
We’re all one human race
Living with violence and silence
One comet could end it all.
Why ask why.
Take the time to lift each other up.
And at least try.
Signed,
Yours Truly
From A to Z.
Grateful Hussle, the film by yours truly and Jake Burchmore
Great poem with themes of the outdoors, music, and history all tying into the current events of today.