Uncircumcised Mentors


I’m a thin man
But I don’t eat pride or persuasion
Most of the time, it’ll took me two hours
To reciprocate a bottle of beer

I don’t go to concerts
A nightmare of getting blown into pieces
By gigantic speakers and hardcore dancing
While you’re soaked in rockshow urine

Although I can easily isolate my physical capacity at the back
Overseeing the hipsters in their floral dresses
And carbonated attitudes
Naturally stagnant and dramatic in many forms

I love to speculate while riding my bicycle
With no handle bars, just pure imperialism
The goldfish I own
Was as purple as me, funny face means a dime or two

I grew up listening to other people’s dreams
While I still assess mine, prolonged and invalid
Maybe I’ll die in prison
Maybe in an island, watching a film about lonely squidballs