It all came out the way the future always comes out, the way it is, my #StruggleToFight
To be or not to be is like the only question if you’ve got all the other answers, kiss my phaser
That’s all that really matters to me besides safe place shelter, what can I eat by tonight?
I demand that you stand up against the wall or I will disintegrate your soul-shape laser!
Gettin’ in the mood but leaving out the most important breath, the last one to blow
Out through both the mouth and nose, then it’s all agape without a free choice, go
Nowhere to be outside of the skin and bones, brain dead, mind checked out a hole
Down with the rabbits and Alice, wherever that may be, you’ll get there too, flow.
Perfection isn’t going to help you a bit with your perfect teeth and made-up faces
Lipstickin’ and powder on the beak will only be what you need for a Space’s Time
Comin’ in first or last in the long run, matters as much as the day the sun nova’s
Where the buried and living go when the Earth cracks up like my divine son’s Ga.
It all came from the free choice of the free will, the man and not the woman, first
Not second or last but the First Cause of the egg’s split conception, 1/2 male’s girl
Or 1/2 woman’s boy but either way, the hermaphrodite anomalously is All, I’m in
Golfer or pinball wizard in between the philosophy classes, in the campus Union.
On or about this day perhaps, in 1951 A.D. I was deep in the womb of mama, OM
Stopped briefly for a last call on the chord attached to her heart, man I love ya mom
I won’t forget all of the times you and pops saved my life before I left to see the War
Why I left was to avoid the youngsters I first caused in seven girlfriends, perhaps or...
Maybe there were abortions or involuntary premature burials of fetal DNA, aliens
Not welcomed into this brief moment in time, babies in utero and the UFO beings
Human women mating with the moon’s robots, headed to Mars and Neptune gods
Dead to me, virus or bacteria, loosely holding on to the geometry of hillbilly genes.
My own ancestors are yelling at me 24/7 to let them eat cake, in a fortune cookie
Strictly speaking, it’s just my own imaginary world of ghosts in mama, never lost
Not the pope of the Catholic christians but the saver of Innocents who #CoverMe
Deep microbial culture, 3 hour meteorites, Mars blown #84001, magnetite #Boss.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Friday August 23rd, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to my caveman mind translate the radio waves of #WARtheBand
W.W.A.R.D.?
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