Fade in
like dawn
out of the blue.

Say it isn’t true.
It isn’t true.

Say you like my style.
Like my style?

I don’t follow.
Don’t follow.

What do you want
from where you come?

What’s your condition?
The human condition
from where you come.

A name in the dark
out for a lark.
Wanting to make a name
with a wanton remark.
Getting it lit
For a little spark.

I don’t follow.
Don’t follow.

Yeah, I’ve been there,
unseen that.
Can’t wait to see your love
And not love you back.

See your love
to me seems like
just another hack.

So long
this can go
only so long.

It felt real
for a moment
you had me.

Now, it feels hollow.
You’ll never have me.
Now, I follow.

JUNKET / Poetry

// On poverty // In Rhymin’ Reason

Look at their happy way.

Looking at the spread rich
from the leftover night at the Ritz.

Looking at cars polished
from a junkyard mish.

Looking at fancy dresses
from a friendly tailor, some dirty laundry.
Rocks dropping from the rich man’s room.
Damsels dainty from a pimp in doom.

Look at the commanding view
from the heights of an effluent truck.
Looking at envy from the starving curs.

Look at the old hands
passing change to the newly poor.

Look at the mirth and song
knowing the bowls won’t be long.


// On copywriters // In HipHop

Poor man Messiah
Has he a message for you.
Poor man Messiah
Has he a page for you.

Willing to a flophouse
Nine to Five
Looking for a hit
In your high five.

Poor man Messiah
Poor poor man Messiah
Looking to fly solo
Never to look down
For people he must follow.

Poor man Messiah
Poor poor man Messiah
The lowman, the slowman.
Every shivery man.
The one with the span of a fly fan.
Just won’t let him be a show man.
You ain’t in this alone man.

Poor man Messiah
Poor poor man Messiah
Lost in a crowd of voices too loud.
Push comes to shove
and takes out his love.

Poor man Messiah
Poor poor man Messiah
Not the hero they wanted.
The one they deserve.
Chop, change.
Nip, tuck.
Cut to size
In a minute of silence
His message they observe.

Poor man Messiah
Poor poor man Messiah
Had he a page for you.

The Moonshining / Poetry

// On Jimmy Fallon // In HipHop

I’m the man on the moon
Comin’ through night on night
All suit and boot.
Live from New York
But all Hollywood.

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

I’m the man on the street
With an eye on
every eye on me
Cos every performance
Starts with a grand entry.

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

Elvis in the building.
LVS in the building.
You gotta see the super, the band, the fan.
Their hand in lettin’ the world know
That Jimmy’s the star of his own show.

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

I’m the man playin’ solo.
The floor’s mine.
The crowd too.
It should be happy
Yet feels like a cameo.

Cos you know, in walks the hero
With class-leadin’ aero
Hands me fiddle number two
Shakes my hand too
Smile, it’s a one-two!

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

Lest I forget
It’s my house, he’s a guest I forget.
He needs me at my Sunday best.
I’ll take my seat, maybe you should too
Get ready to hide in plain view.

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

Gimme no tears, I ain’t hearsin’
Cos you’ve been away, and I rehearsin’
Gimme a turd, I’ll make it gold
I’m moonshine that never gets old
Sit back, relax, you’re sold.

Gimme a shimmy Jimmy!

The Kabuki is done
Being anything but fun.
The games should be soon
Lettin’ me give it back.
There’s a house to be won.

Good time to talk Jimmy?
Yeah man, could do with some company
The show’s got me feelin’ like a clown
Can you pick me up
Shake me upside down?