#ricoSacto

Friday, May 22, 2026

#WhiskeyForMyMen & #BeerForMyHorses @SucksToBeNobody #CatchMeInMadagascar #DownSouthJukin' @Skynyrd @Madonna

FIREMEN, Y’all

FIRED up For mystic pizzapie

Pizza pie, no killing anything on Earth to eat & defecate anymore, eaters extinct
Investments in futures have become the disastrous facts of life’s putrid instinct
To live forever isn’t a possible state of being; everything & everyone is temporal
Like the employees who work for wages without benefits, we’re here for the ball.

Breaking bread with the ones who got you to the brink of extinction, that’s amore
To the ends of life, original sins were just a sperm & egg merger, a holy game door
Now, for Buddha, Krishna & Jesus’ job to forsake, Ends justify Means, a supernova
You won’t see it, but you’ll believe it when you’ve got no more IQ mind, Casanova.

Beer and whiskey for the horses we rode from Kansas City to Sacramento, it’s time
To settle down by the river near the gold mines in Coloma, we can moonshine fine
Pizza to die for, music to move the 208 bones in a frenzy, lookin’ for all three steps
Toward the door when you’re unable to see beyond the fist comin’ up on me lips.

Alternatively, there’s no sense in living without a purpose, suckin’ air for nothing
Keeping the eyes on the prize, even if you’re blind as a bat without spectacles on
Being at one with the facts of life & your own history, that’s tantamount to a ring
Remind us all, whichever finger gets surrounded by heavy metal, I’m already gone.

Coming home in a hand basket or ‘nam body bag, either way, I’ll return to the RNA
Morphing 208 bones into cosmic dust, Pete, Paulo & Marie, who had a little lamb
Black fleece as black as stardust mud hiding the diamond in the rough of pizza-pie
Cards and your shoes shuffle in disorder & off-beat, you win some on a white lie.

Dorks and dingbats manufactured for the blame, all idiots aren’t responsible, et al
When you are at One, you’ll know it, multiplicity is The Big Bang’s legacy, we bawl
Then we must help the innocent & wild as they shuffle off to Augusta Blvd beast
From downtown to a boardwalk uptown in the suburbs, anyway, but the far East.

Monkeys trip to pay music, they like to bang & keep beats, player of chrome dome
Wood or metal, stretched skins, beating and swishing for the cows to come home
Bumping around the perimeter, nobody can see with a human perception, an end
Metabolize blacklight blinds, know nobody steps into a river twice, lazy river bend.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Vendredi, May 22nd MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 444 PMPST
{ Requiem For a Lightweight Poet, drafted this while jammin’ to @MichaelJackson HITS link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/XhV3iyLPBr8?si=bF4F41AvMoVDbn4l } 

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

PABLO PICASSO's "the girl"

Monday, May 11, 2026

NO, THANK 'ME' LATER! YOU CAN'T FICTIONALIZE THIS CHIT, MON! @MichaelJackson #BubblesTheChimp #KRACKED

 

CAROL & I ARE GOING TO MONTEREY AD INFINITUM

I broke my halo out at the shore, near Monterey’s Big Sur, Jesus Christ is all gone 
All answers were posited by the guessers who knew nothing, and then they died 
So, we all get the same old chances; if they get any chance at all, it’s up to a one 
On the feet & healthy, strong legs that take the weight, there’s a maximum load. 


I won’t know anything the day I die, & to save some time, already don’t know it 
Flow hot to keep it cool, it’ll seize if you cause friction to be present in your ID 
Gods know nothing more nor less than the minions do, confused, false superego 
Bar fights are over before they start, where I hunt for things that come to blow.

Beginning at the end and leaving the middle to stay at rest in the vacuum, on air 
Where you say what you think & we all agree or disagree with the evil, live stare 
Halls and markets are empty, everything’s broken beyond repair, you know it all 
What becomes of our natural longing for longevity, existence is a chimera ghost.

Victims and the hunters need and want one another, boredom’s ennui last stand 
In front of the fear & behind the malfunction, it’s all that you are, one free Will 
Be an accident of lust of man & woman, it’s the same as a planned day 1 family 
It’s still a murder of crows whether you like it or not; it’s not my call, what’ll be. 


It will be foretelling the story as if it is a means to the Way, Truth about a Pitch 
Never repeat the operation twice, or it’ll go on a roll & it’ll never stop the itch 
Homeless encampments have rats and trash from the many minions of ape ilk 
Education of the young orphans and mistreated children on 5150 parents’ milk.

It may not get better than this, but for certain, it could be worse; it’s been said 
Only you and I know the meaning of life, get hungry, work to eat, or you’re dead 
Not to cast aspersions and blame on the innocent & wild-eyed boys led by nuns 
Fear & loathing of all the above leaves Nothing out, over & done without reruns. 


Heard the herd approaching from the rumble of the ground, vibration warning 
Out of the way of the stampede is not only a good idea, but it’s about surviving 
Even if you hate your place in Space, you still don’t want to stop breathing, et al 
If you go too soon, you’ll return ad infinitum, just do the thing you do, play Ball!


by 
r j j stephan, i 
c. Lundi, May 11th MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1:11 PMPST
{ Broke this out of the twilight zone while jammin’ to @ACDC’s #SoulStripper on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/CgPgNzQYQQ4?si=xAhobZMRMtoiBTj3 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?