Picking up my woman along the way
A short enough skirt that’ll surely tease
Soft tones upon the extinguished day
Wine & song that I might forever please
Snapping fingers & popping buttons
Ample latitude that I might play her fool
Admittedly; for her touch I’m a glutton
My own words reveal me to still be uncool
My ravishing mettle giving her just cause
Subtly picking up her heels and hemline
This rakish spirit providing her pause
Exposing joy & unadulterated sunshine
External pressures without comparative edges
Weighing down the spirit of our voice
The uneasy relationship with original thought
Fate passes us by when we cannot rejoice
Gather around children
It’s time to listen to a tale
Of mean-spirited politicians
& how they’re trying to make society fail
Never trust those your parents elected
They’re out here banning books for kicks
Aggressively stupid speeches at rallies
While demonstrating fascist parlor tricks
Be careful to watch your language
Lest you offend an old white man
Your school libraries might be empty
But I’ll share all the books they ban
Too many punks
But only in the aesthetically pleasing sense
Bought their shirts at the 5 & Dime
Along with safety pins
& commercially foraged tattoos
(Can we discuss how punk’s not supposed to be safe?)
Where’s the independence?
Where’s the penchant to damn the man?
Find your sovereign spirit
For no one’s really punk
Until everyone thinks they’re uncool
The magic of the Holidays still gets to me
You’ll find me wiping my tears with a sleeve
I’m not ashamed to outwardly proclaim it
I still believe
These days I walk the streets with childlike innocence
Searching for anything with the Christmas spirit
But I find most of the world has become Scrooge
A sad truth & many of you don’t wanna hear it
But I know we can be better than this
All of us can always return back here
To the love & magic of the Holidays
Let me be the first to pour you a cup of cheer
Low evenings persistently intrude
Fancy parties & sensitive souls
Facades draped in lush decor
Strong mixed spirits don’t leave you full
Trashy nights with unseen acquaintances
Low cut blouses & nylon dreams in heels
Witnessing dancers locked in solitude
Push away the day
We don’t need another slow reveal
It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy
Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain
Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
Such a difference
In a button or two
How you tease me
The way you do
My weary spirits
Begin to rise
You make it hard
To look you in the eyes…
You give up your voice
When you choose to take their hand
You sacrifice your honor
When you go joining their faceless band
You deem yourself unremarkable
Once they take away your vote
No longer choosing for yourself
Their drudging spirit grabs your throat
The hoard directs you how to think
& can make you recite all sorts of things
You deserve your time in Hell
When you hand them your own strings
Dreams of pretty dancing girls
Tartan skirts & gold buckles on their shoes
Legs draped in such fine stockings
High kicks, but treasure out of view
The fantasy of a joyous party
Spirited music playing a bit loud
Fiddles & bagpipes; what a scene
You pulled me out of the dense crowd
Beauty of drinking black beer all day
My stature begins to slightly tilt
You quietly asked me for a light
But there’s no pockets in this kilt
Envisioning what the night might bring
Is it possible that you could be this real
Sharing a pint in a secluded corner
A second Guinness is considered a meal
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
Let me get out into the world
While everyone else is still in bed
Let me move these old bones
I need to get fresh air into my head
Too many stagnant mornings
With nothing to show for the exertion
Feeling low in my spirits
Like I’m a soul still prone to desertion
I need to discover a permanent solution
To rid my life of heartbreak & pain
I don’t want to struggle anymore
Results from my effort & not simply remain
I’m not feeling strong these days
With my soul in traction
Weakness seems to manifest itself
Sustaining a chain reaction
I’m not feeling invincible anymore
With my heart on the gallows block
Life can crush your spirit
While we’re busy serving the clock
I’m not feeling perfect, quite honestly
But I know there’s toughness somewhere
Upon a solid foundation I shall rise
With a firm grip on love & a fist in the air
Carefully chosen sentence structures
The love of words keeping you from the cold
Bundled in that threadbare cardigan
But you never allowed your spirit to be sold
The world wishes to destroy your soul
& watch gleefully as you wither & cry
But as long as you keep on writing
You’ll learn that you can never really die
The sun rising too quickly
Causing you to begin cursing
These are our shared moments
With these spirits we’re nursing
The cold causing me to shiver
I need some more of your covers
But you have none to spare
Exposing you; a temperamental lover
A picture postcard perfect appearance
Modest, yet smoldering beauty beneath
A festive spirit expounding – Winter’s tales
Out singing carols & hanging a wreath
But once you come home for the day
Put on those hooker lips & pirate boots
Time to release your animalistic desire
Tired of being demure & a little too cute
Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought
Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees
Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late
You pray to the spirits of procastrination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love
Even the poor can spirit an uprising
Don’t speak to me of your pragmatic lever
I’m not going to buy into your propaganda
Never a card-carrying member, nor true believer
Longboarding in a sundress
Unusual, yes, but don’t complain
She’s free within her soul
A spiritual moment in the rain
Do not hinder
Those who are not afraid
Let them live as they please
For you motivate when you forbade
Teetering on the edge of normalcy
The unraveling of misguided forms
This mind won’t settle into boredom
Will not compromise the quelling of the storm
Do not attempt to dampen this fire
My spirit will continue to actively soar
For I won’t be cajoled to become bland
Feeling fresh & alive, always reaching for more
The twinkling of stars at night
Dispatched souls with nothing to lose
Our lost matchbook fantasies
Dwindling into aging suburban blues
Not fond of Covid nor the Spanish Flu
I’d rather have some Spanish Fly
Mix it in my cup, “yo baby, what’s up?”
I’m still that awkward ass, abnormative guy
Fading time to time into darkness
But I try to emerge into the light these days
A bounce in my step/mischief in my eye
Growing younger in spirit despite all these grays
Captain Q 