Remain with Stilpo

I'm lean, clean—if a little sleepy.


I fuse the laid-back sound of the 1990s

with millennial steel, Brooklyn bullshit,

and countrypolitan filigree.


I am the Descartes of anxiety.


I feel tall in the morning,

and small in the evening.


I look like the kind of guy

who read Fight Club in college,

but I was retyping The Great Gatsby

in community college. 


I am an idiot,

But at least I don’t have an ego.


I put the hopeless 
in 'hopeless romantic'
cuz I still love a girl
that disappeared.


Though I am scared,

I have no choice 

But to keep chasing bravery.


Back on my reggae breakfasts,

my punk rock lunches.


Though I am scarred,

I have plenty of heart,

and hustle.


I remain with Stilpo,

because my soul can't be killed.


In these dumb poems,

I will live forever.