“Clever”

Posted on by Mauricio Rincon

My poetry is tougher than leather,

Yours is soft and fake like pleather.

I’ll even recite your wack ass poem or whatever,

And make that shit sound a whole lot better.

Go ahead, try and make yourself sound clever.

You’re just a bootleg pirate fool, you ain’t even on my level.

Any last words, before I make you walk down that plank?

I can either shoot you with a musket, or pull out my shank.

I’ll make you famous, like Billy The Kid or Doc Holliday;

My poetry stay more gangster than yours, on any given Sunday.

You really should go home and pray,

Pray I don’t tap that ass and we both turn gay.

And yes, you are welcome to sit at my table;

As I pour maple on mable that just might enable

You to become stable, ready, willing and able;

As I share with everyone, your falsified fable.

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2013

“Heavenly Divine”

Posted on by Mauricio Rincon
There are no parallel lines above me.
So I stand perpendicular.
An amazing amount of fortitude,
Resides in my testicular.
I’m the shepherd
That leads you lambs to the slaughter.
The pied piper,
That ran away with the Sheriff’s daughter.
I’m one of a kind,
You can say one in a million.
Don’t let me win the lottery,
I’ll build homes for the homeless by the billion.
Upon my death
I will tap dance like Fred Astaire.
And boogie dance
All the way up Heaven’s stairs.
But where,
Where is Heaven, do you know?
I guess knowing is half the battle
Like they say in G.I. Joe!
©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2014

“Insomnia”

Posted on by Mauricio Rincon

It’s past two o’ clock ante meridian,
And I am still awake.
Is it all the caffeine I gulped down at my nine to five?
Maybe it’s just the restless butterflies in my stomach-
Or the fact that I am scheduled to stand in front of a live audience
In just a few hours or so…
A stage performance in which I will most
Likely make a fool of myself.
Anyway, I can’t seem to repose.
My eyes are tired but I’ve got so many wired thoughts
Scrambled like eggs and congested in my dome piece
Not letting me get my much needed rest.
Guess I’d better go squirt out some piss
And see if I can’t clean out my system and finally get some sleep
Before I catch me some more fucking insomnia.

© 1997 Mauricio Rincon

“Ghost Writer”

Posted on by Mauricio Rincon

As I sit on my throne,
I have been known,
To postpone
The depletion of the ozone.

Two scoops of abstract,
A dash of actual fact,
Keeps my sanity intact
As poetry leaks out of my urinary tract.

I’m highly skilled,
The strongest willed,
Main attraction, top billed.
Fuck with me and you may get killed.

Get bodied on paper.
This is my latest caper.
Send you to meet your maker.
I’m known as the dream taker.

Let bygones be bygones.
Love women in little thongs.
My words poke like prongs.
Someone should turn my words into songs.

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2015