Tingalinging

Wink left, dunk right, jab, jab, apricot,

Switching places in the ring, fading slowly, like your ink,

Trading punches back and forth, till your skin no longer pink.

Crowned king, before you sink, tingalinging to sing-sing.

____________

Sitting on a city train, everybody seems insane.

Thus the bane of my existence,  always feeling quirkilicious

Big ol’ Lady come around, thinking I should let her seat,

I don’t get to make a sound, she just pushes to her beat.

She just splashes cross the benches, pushing people left and right,

I evade, as if in trenches, holding breath and angry might.

She don’t like the fast onlookers, cause we’re looking rather mad,

We all know deep within us, try to blink, and we are dead.

Irregardless, ‘what’s the problem?’ has been dealt and gotta deal,

Feeling like a crippled Goblin, swallow harder, like a pill.

‘I don’t know, it’s your city, and it is your dialect,

I’ve offended, what a pity, let me only say ‘Respect ‘’.

Moments passed and she was sleeping, placing hands above her knees,

Feeling foul, like double dipping, all I did was reminisce.

I prefer avoiding squabble, I don’t like to feel so tense,

I’ve arranged my own bubble, I would rather go dance.

____________

Wink left, dunk right, jab, jab, apricot,

Switching places in the ring, fading slowly, like your ink,

Trading punches back and forth, till your skin no longer pink.

Crowned king, before you sink, tingalinging to sing-sing.

____________

Coming back from crazy party, started early, ended late,

Heading home with glamour dripping, late at night I’m what I ate.

Feeling buzzed and elevated, ain’t nobody tell me naught,

Get some grab – unhealthy eating, I admit I got a lot.

Walking slowly to the entrance of my humbly grand abode,

I’m reflecting on the prior, ‘bout which already wrote.

See my neighbor, gently gripping cigarillo in his hand,

Ain’t no pillow more exciting, than some banter, but unplanned.

He’s a chilling skinny friendly marker meant to say ‘hello’,

I’m ignoring all distractions, but to them I am a ‘whow’.

‘You aren’t local, you’re a stranger, I don’t care, that you pay rent.’

I’m collecting their opinions, screw my smiles and consent.

There’s conspiracy between ‘em, I am certain, not confused,

I don’t feel distressed or wounded, I don’t even feel abused.

Harlem pennies made a fortune, I’m still living in the shade,

There is fair, just and proper, but perhaps I’m just a bait.

____________

Wink left, dunk right, jab, jab, apricot,

Switching places in the ring, fading slowly, like your ink,

Trading punches back and forth, till your skin no longer pink.

Crowned king, before you sink, tingalinging to sing-sing.