My mama met my pop at the Club Aragon back in the hood, long time ago, we all gonna sees
Big dreams and huge pussy cats in the drama tragedies and comedies of the extinct species
In the dramatic tragedy, the comedy emerges from the vacuum inside of the holy singularity
Suppose that the mothers have all been the parents of the mother phuqurs, man, humanity.
It is either all my fault or it ain’t any of my fault at all, I’m not responsible for the First Sin
I almost drowned when I was thirteen, stuck underneath a floating godamerican raft split
Anyway, here I am fifty-five years later, I had a last breath, I couldn’t breath, altar-boy In
Comedy and Tragedy, silent gas compression and emission, act three and a finale, no exit.
Punks, addicts and statesmen who need the doctors to keep them alive, they need the pills
A sinking feeling knows nothing without a man dreaming an infinite series of window sills
Fire, water, wind and this third rock from a white dwarf, a Milky Way fantasy, oh my sound
Pickin’ fights with giant guys in local bars and megastar music concerts, winning in a round.
Utter west coast bumps and bums who sleep three abreast near the dumpsters’ geriatric bins
Just because there’s nowhere left to go once you’ve failed at being a taxpayer in paradise inns
Hookers, sisters of our mothers’ great grandfathers were in on The joke, Time-Space’s classes
One in a UFO that came alone and left alone, left the seeds of Love and Hygiene, clean-fazes.
On demanded request, knockin’ cheese off of the Alamo, well I’ll be danged, apes like it all
Everyday and most every night here under this myriad of star stuff, smokin’ a lucky strike
Hundreds of the coffin nails I’ve in and out hailed, not bein’ a fool, just being a hood’s spike
Monkey inside of me and a naked ape in a dead bull ring, it’s the same only different, p’al!
Something’s in the Way, I will it to move out of my straight and narrow path, in outta synch
Two lane highway, eight lane tollway, East to West, South to the frozen North, pole of pink
I left and was gone before she even knew I was there in the first place, I left a whiff of musk
Care or not, It is what it is but I don’t know it’s nature, essence of the Void, embedded tusk.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Friday, September 27th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:11 PM PST
*Header is the Aragon Ballroom marquee in Chicago, Illinois where mom picked up my pop!
{ Drafted listenin’ to Daryl's House Club & Anderson East doin’ #ShesGone on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/A9TFNKPHQng }
W.W.A.R.D.?
No comments:
Post a Comment
YOUR 2 cents...if you don't mind? ;-)