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NO LAST WORDS TO MAKE FLESH
by
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Silent and holy are nights that move before and after your births and deaths but who cares?
Nobody you know or will ever know, if you can survive and not become raw food of dogs’ flab
You may be white trash buried underneath the ground of nature, orange grace of red dragons
Safe without a compass or map, in the heat of a desert freeze of Isis and Zeus’ fine handguns.
Their wining about the food and the shelter because it’s free and they want liberty to take it
No working for wages, no trading wares for needs and desires, nothing to do with a cat’s teat
Imagine trying to survive when the world and everything in it wants you buried in white sand
A little less likely you will wine when you have a bottle of Merlot chilled in your fatback hand.
In a pinch, everyone will spill the beans so buckle up and get ready to rock, we sail in thirty
Pitched a perfect game until the last batter of the last inning hit a grand slam four bagger
It was zero to zero for nine, then suddenly it was 4-0, game over, walk-off the big balls flight
Suspend your judgement about this fiasco until finale momentum, I can’t stand it no more.
Secrets will never remain in the darkness once the blind men and women see the Truth of Ga
Immediately prior to the day your tag of essence expires, you get the feeling something’s off
Sure, the On switch was on Off the entire time the dream moved on with pretension, but wait
Do you smell what I smell, raw burgers and hooves of Pokemon and Defender, cough cough.
Hit the hammer on the surface about a million times and then for some reason, swing at air
Nobody’s gettin’ out of the Mother Earth including the elite and downtrodden, isolated fare
Comin’ to Jesus is what I meant by WWJD, so very cool you know, to be or not to be blue soul
Nameless before conception filled the void womb full of fertile, grounded particle receptacle.
Pure focus on the punch line comin’ right out of left field or nowhere, same time, same place
The mighty will to power is a hidden power that only the fortunate sons and daughters mine
Current on the river is brisk and I am in an unsinkable container, goin’ downstream for good
My tribe threw me on a raft of wood, set it on fire and I just wanted to say one more thing, ...
by
r j j stephan, i
c. May 21st, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to The Rolling Stones new CD #NoSecurity on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/oZtXiN8i1uE }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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