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