GIVE A RAT’S BEHIND, STICK IT!
Livin’ in a van down by the river on a Thursday at 7:11 AM, fully armed before the cock crows
Motivation to be satisfied with the fact that you pay for the things you consume, by working
Labor of blood, sweat and tears of your forefathers, absentee fathers and mothers of mating
Deep thought is not required in your repertoire, wear your baseball hat backwards, albinos!
Now, get past the hot tip above and you’ve still got holes in your Dumbo ear lobes’ holy skin
Cauterize the wounds of the saviors who rise above the loudest mouths, stars, stripes, gunnin’
The most toys in possession of the degenerate genome which is the fission and fusion of Mum
You know the girls that raised us become what we are, holy garbage in garbage out, ho hum!
Now then, all educated with the logic and reason, the high metaphysics of wisdom, hear that?
Keepin’ whose hands off of my property, my right to possess and bear, a revolution to begin
Shell shock and battle fatigue come in handy when you’re at war, operational exhaustion sin
A little thing called #PTSD ,a post traumatic stress disorder, a Vietnam GI love of country scat.
Landfill of the garbage inside and outside of your heart and soul, become your preconception
Prior to mothers’ pregnancies, religion from East to the West, concealed divinity in clear skin
Soul and mind, spirit of the condition of being, moving, animated DNA out of nowhere above
As below, maybe an illusion or dream within a Poe dream, guest appearance, die white dove!
Pass away from death do I part, I shall expire, life throttled me by the throat, I choked a byte
I swear I shall overcome the impossibly illogical tendency to survive when death is inevitable
Narcistically speaking, without me here and now, I don’t care what happens to a world’s balls
Start at origins of ignorance, collect a compendium of fear’s mythology, now you know It all.
Revolution against the Big Brother that nobody knows even exists at all, that is God’s Truth
Ten or seventeen Rights on the written word of humanity, the pretenders awake, we all alone
Inside or outside of seven continents above the saltwater of the fish in the sea, I am uncouth
Uncivilized and enculturated with being a skeptic of the patronized eyes of rods and cones.
by
r j j stephan, i #MolonLabe Moxy Molonlabe
c. Thursday January 3, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST
{ drafted while improving my self-esteem in tune to the inspirational #GeorgeCarlin standup on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/h6wOt2iXdc4 }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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