Stickup

in a world so constipated

it’s hard to stay regular

I have been asked before

if I’m a believer

why am I so secular

I find that to be peculiar

is it a sin to boogie?

am I wrong to jam?

it’s all an act of love

love for music of all kinds

true gospel is good blues

Bob Marley was a prophet

Tupac was his predecessor

a bible sits on my dresser

opened to the 23rd Spalms

through Catholicism

I’m a confessor

my red bowtie makes me

a good dresser

I can’t live from within

without my Zen

I’m am… poet, so rap is

my chosen religion

it’s all done under the sun

inks my ammo

the pens my gun

hands up