There is no cool being dug in the diggin you perpetrate

slick like a coyote, tongue-quick like a rattle snake?

Boy, you ain't!

You walk into the space, face full of stone

as if you done built Rome,

or like you're Al Capone,

I'm like

right

right

right

Well, you might catch Syphliss from a trick down in

Memphis,

or if you get real lucky,

you might inherit Hepatitis-B,

from a freak in DC,

but,

you will never pimp the funk

See, a man can tap dance all around the art of the spoken word

without actually scratching the surface,

meanwhile;

I worship deep thought

cuz' a mellow presence is my preference.

The reality of tempestuous prose

causes flavor to be disclosed

I propose a toast of rhyme

to all those I refer to as mine

may you elude the rude who stay glued

to the mold,

avoid

those devoid

of soul;

drink love down like Remy on the rocks

with a splash of cccooolllddd

Ginger Ale,

and let all you inhale

exhale;

as you join me in breakin' this life down to what really is the real

remaining dug so that others may dig

stayin true so that others may

feel the Sun from the work you've begun

as we shun the petty-ones

we be the ready ones,

Mellow; and diggin' this whole experience

called life

sweet as the curve of a sisters hip

returning always seems shorter than arriving,

so enjoy the trip

with a mellow groove as your confidant