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GRAND CHUCKIE, LET’S ROLL!
Well now, it takes a real long time to get the daughters and sons to get here to bloody Earth
Then when they arrive, they go drivin’ on the freeway and dating, makin’ abort or afterbirth
Taxpayers and future jumpstreeters who wait for the handouts, give pints of blood-sweat fee
No daddies to tell them what to do and how to do it, no Charlie Browns in my street thuggery.
Conceived and born in a stall in a barn like Jesus, but couldn’t get to the other side of the tent
Where the camels breathe the hot air and breath of dead brains of the nomads who feed them
One hump or two matters a bit for the dromedary impudence, to be or not to be, my question
I have the answer and it isn’t delectable, it leaves a foul taste in One mouth, I’m a mortal sin.
I wake up every morning since I was awakened from the dream called, mom’s neighborhood
Daddy was there and then he wasn’t, he died or never really existed, mama was a virgin’s kid
Grew up in a convent where her father was a priest of the religion that celebrates God’s death
One soul in a human body isn’t what the divine created it to be, Romans killed divine breath.
Genetic DNA analyzed to see that there is a missing link in man’s code, my freeway onto hell
Unknown thing, a thing itself, what it is nobody knows but without it we can’t drop the pedal
We’ll never get into the cruise mode to approach the speed of light’s disappearance of the Old
This dimension of time, right here and now in this space on Earth, in the U.S.A., sweet Gold.
My mansion is a hovel to most, in a cave without windows, one way in and one way out, mine
Regardless of the tone of my wordplay or voice or a look on my Sicilian/German/Irish wine
My grandma called my contorted faces, male, ugly or bad but I didn’t know it from my view
Jumped in, gettin’ out the way, my mama was havin’ 5 more babies, grandmama was my boo!
Inside nothing that’ll keep you safe and immortal for eternity, all you got’s blind faith’s hope
One second after your an my last breaths, last pump of the heart beat, my old slippery slope
Not hard to know before you die but it’s hard to live, to be happy about being alive knowing it
Just go, get embedded in the train, All there is, God never was, pink Cadillac Is, this kitschy?
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Sunday January 27th, 2019 A.D. @ 6:66 AM PST
{ drafted while looped to Aretha Franklin #FreewayOfLove in a loop link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/sD_MriSGa04 }
W.W.A.R.D. ?
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