DUBL-BARYL SHOT O’WHISKEY *
l know nothing, I see nothing because my whiskey glasses are clear as a blue iceberg of mirth
Right there in front of me, my Single eyes, nose and mouth, my whole face jumpin’ up absurd
It’s a head above my neck’s heart and soul and I can’t erase the days or nights in my ol’ herd
Humans of the all too human variety, stars’ gods of a Roman-Greek head, for what it’s worth.
Words wasted and lost with a single flinch of the finger on the keys of the board, just because
It can’t be said too many times, drink the alcohol until your brain and mind seize the old buzz
Like the birds and bees flyin’ through the cosmic dust and knockin’ knees with the code of Us
Genetic code of the reasons for being alive, to survive the assault of the predators of my fuzz.
Hair and skin and bones, leakin’ divine, life blood out onto the chairs and tables, on my street
No music and no mothers and fathers who invent everything to pacify the violent warrior feet
Before and after I put my two cents down into the kitty, into the honey pot of mean green, Go
Never stop ‘til there’s nothing left, no struggle with anyone, when we’re One, wind will blow!
Broke my heart in four, I saw through whiskey glasses of Jack and Coke and the light seized
No way to get any further without a blood flow, without a gasp of gas, without faith or hope
Love itself has nothing to do with the survival of the fittest, that’s just a way to steal the dope
Adults and infants know the meaning of 3 AM, sleepin’ with the dead’s black nights, pleased.
Sippin’ the life’s blood from the nipples that all animals carry to line up the sucking sucklings
When the well is dry, mama can go to the beginning and start the process again, survive kings
Long live the queens of the hives and surface caves, built out of the mud and wood seed of Ra
Starlight fading, ready to sink in a grave’s black hole, incinerate the Void, OMG, Mama Mia!
Unpaid dues left over from the dregs of society, the bums and idiots thrown up, frosty rivers
All squared and cubed in a geometric pattern of arithmetic rhythm’s blues, west Indian givers
Nevertheless, charge my card for another round, ring is gone, old poor me, smokin’ god-dabs
None here so let’s go, just a move-on formula, #LineEmUp, double shots of heartbroken fads.
by
r j j stephan, i *header is Natalie Wood (1938-81) through #WhiskeyGlasses!
c. August 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 8:08 AM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to #WhiskeyGlasses by Morganwallen “If I Know Me” CD, 14 million views of #SippinAroundTheTruth link @ https://youtu.be/ozT3-7Dd3cg }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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