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Apostle Of Hustle
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My Sword Hand's Anger
One day an angel told me, 'your time here is fleeting'
Behind his back - a pistol - here comes a beating
His suit, his silk, flower / but my razor is faster
'Hey Carlos, you been drinkin' Florida water'
Looking for a new technique
They never believe I put my weapons down
Another page turns in the book
Another one falls on their knees to the ground
A message from the tiger & she shivered like chord on a harp:
'The bedroom must be returned to its original sailor'
She reached for the lipstick from her handbag
On the edge of the sink & the sad loves surrounded the lade of perpetual squalor
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