I’m not going to set myself up as fodder
I suffer enough through my own imagination
No need to offer up a negligible sacrifice
& contribute to my soul’s degradation
I’m Not Going To Set Myself Up As Fodder
degrade
Stretching Yoga To Hello Nasty
Stretching yoga to Hello Nasty
Bending this body in awkward positions
Head bobs & an elderly b-boy stance
Personal history leads me to contrition
Doc says my ticker isn’t what it once was
My mind is young, but I’m not at my peak
Slowly degrading upon each sunrise
Not quite old, yet bordering on antique
Trying To Conjure The Ghost
She said I was, “trying to conjure the ghost of Bukowski”
I told her there was better writers to admire
I’m not in college anymore
Drinking & degrading women won’t light my fire
I’m looking for inspiration to ignite my soul
A need to be revolutionized from the daily grind
Normalcy & the mundane will kill my spirit
I’m pushing forward to nurture & excite this weary mind
Captain Q 