SONS, NOTHIN’ BUT A HOUNDDOG!
If you could have seen what I dreamt in a batroom of costumery, a plethora vulnerabilities
You would have had your partner take this ‘still’ of you too, just sayin’ got the theme’s tease
It’s not what you thought but it’s what you’ll think in a New York minute’s frame, my stilleto
Either that or you’ll be engaged in studying the nature of the beasts and platform, my amigo.
High on a hill’s pumpkin patch, livin’ the good life, got a pickup truck and put a nice girl in it
I’ve got zippity-do-da M.I.A. & had to go analyze the psycho-physical notions of genetic chit
Now she tells me that soon, I’m gonna be dead if I keep drinkin’ n’ smokin’ so I LMAO, kicks
Nobody is out of character or out of costume, in reality ain’t nothing but wild-ass systemics.
My sincere apologies to the offended which is most every result of human DNA, all eventually
You, you and yes, you as well since you’re here and have come on along for a ride to get stiff
Country rocks some good girls’ worlds, hard and soft Rock leaks into backwoods up country
All the money in the world on my plastic MC/V CARD can’t drive my mini-SUV over the cliff.
Watch your two-step and jitterbuggin’ and get on down to it, missin’ naught ‘cept the kissin’
Heroes always get the girl in the end, you seen the story on the star-studded silver screenin’
Everybody who lives past adolescence got hugs and kisses from somebody, ‘cept the hermits
People conceived in error by ignorance of consequences for copulation, ambiguity of idiots.
I only am aware of the tool I’m using for the elucidation of an ultimate conclusion, deduced it
Used as much of the known and unknown as I could wrap my mind around, kilt all #Batschit
Nothin’ more nor less than the end result of drinkin’ and smokin’ and flyin’ into sunsets’ red
Only you know, Mr. Fortunato, what it is to be what It is, they told us so, Truth’s what’s said!
This thing itself has been an acid trip of Lysyrgics up and down the frets of my wooden leg
Yeah, I’m the axe you put your hands all over, you know me, I know you, we feel the glee
To the beats, to the rhythm and rhyme of the fish hook lures, up and down A to C scales
Sevenths and Diminished, major and minor chords are all the same harmony, singularity.
If you’re blind you can see it in #Braille, if you be stupid you can hookup baby mama’s sons
With any luck, the fortunes of the Batman subtle jokes ring true, become holy event horizons
Squeezed the infinite quantity of essence, of atoms’ electronic phonetics into SpaceTime locks
Blown out mountains due to a smokin’ asteroid core, lavastone beasts of burden, holy flocks.
Curiosities killin’ all the cats I know of, life flowin’ through the veins of the vegetarian hosers
Alive for a mere moment, flash in the pan with a full complement of infinity, 1/4 mile hotrods
Behind unbreakable bars and inpenetrable keyhole locks without an exit for hardcore losers
All too human joke, a Singularity’s Truth and gravitational collapse, makin’ fusion for gods!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, June 23rd, 2019 A.D. @ 12:00 PM PST, HIGH NOON
{ drafted this gem while jammin’ to some J.J.Cale & Eric Clapton #TheRoadToEscondido on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/XDcHuYrGBtM }
FINIS
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