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STRANDED ON A 5TH OF JACQUES *
Alright pops, it is OK that you couldn’t hang with Wall Street until the gold flowed fast, Fat!
Goin’ down to sixty-sixth street where the action always was and still is, on a corner, schooled
For the marks walkin’ down the street in a hood where angels fear to go, broke down, fooled
No place to go, nowhere to look for the reason for being alive, mama & pappy were all of that.
Now and then both here and there, it’s the time and the place for the spells we cast and face
It’s all a bunch of magic, truth and lies in a hodgepodge of cornucopia, oh mama’s dark womb
Not because they want to, they must, they have to or else the entire matrix implodes to doom
All there is, all there is not is everywhere, all the time, there is no Time, no Space, not a trace.
When I was just a little squirt, knee high to my daddy’s crotch, I punched him in the wall nuts
He buckled over like a baby, I knew I could take him down with one punch but I had the guts
To take a chance and see if I could rise to the top of the love of the woman, infant germicide
Showing the young to eat, to walk, to talk and be the dream of someone else’s fake patricide.
I found the war pigs and the peace nips who fight over whether to destroy or create My date
Bodies will burn in or out of the streets, on fire, underground or high in the upper Watergate
Comin’ to the front of the line, it’s your turn now, what are you going to do, it’s all up to you
Country codes in the cities and every mind of every man and woman alive, DNA is gonna die!
It ain’t my fault, don’t blame me, I am NOT the ONE you should hunt down to straighten out
Certain death in the end, just like your friends and kin before you, just like a future I call Ga
Stab US if you must, bodies will be consumed, all antimatter of Adam’s Earth, #MadDogRa
Skull’s old bones cribs-crossed to deliver up-Word Spell magic, squirts of gold, God! Abort!
Crossfire crap undercover, all the gas everyone wants to combust into a fired-up, white goon
Here and now, shine and moon of the wine, I know how to howl and I will, given a blue moon
Ready to eat meat of the Happy Earth without knowing why we do it or if it will end at dawn
Mirrors of combat odors rise from my tomb, scent of gunpowder here and now, .44 I’m gone.
by
r j j stephan, i
{ *Dedicated to my pops #AlbertRStephan up there on the other side, or down there....NOT! #LoveyaPops ! }
c. FREEZEMBER 14, 2018 A.D. @ 5:55 AM PST
{ drafted in #BehindTheBack #BluesMode listenin’ to Stevie Ray Vaughan #TexasFlood & #VooDooChild & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/KC5H9P4F5Uk & https://youtu.be/uVI7I-WDGx4 }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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