What Would Ayn Rand Do? For real? #WackedWakeUp

ALL FRESCO DEADWOOD, ANEJO!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 1, 2019

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Cacti under glass, after dancin’ in oakwood, acorn husk cells, lumbered the jacked up brick

All the symbols and signs of random, coincidental events rolled up into One savior pun-kass

If you achieve the gift of reading and writing, you’ll locate the Truth and it will be a big kick

See here, look here now, a blind leap of faith will get you nothing but a pretender’s overpass.

In the nasty city where children are meant to be mean in the streets to survive the code Poor

Nothing but hand-me-downs from cousins’ brothers, oh me oh my, 5 and 10 at Satan’s door

Perfectly supernatural and in every way at all times, a mystery of the occult magician’s tomes

Where the spells and reasons for being are listed from A to Z, 1, 2, 3 and you know my bones.

208 of them, some broken and some eaten away by the wear and tear of the breathtaking me

What I’ve done, I remember and have forgotten the evil alive, just a touch of a playboy bunny

Every moment of the Earth’s revolving, wobbling spin and orbit about the white dwarf, sunny

A skeleton key fits the padlock and opens the safe place of echoes from the Big Bang’s degree.

Just the facts that you want to hear so you can deduce a valid conclusion, it’s GD elemental

Earth, Wind and Fire become the nature of beasts who become all too humane heavy metal

Why, where and when, how and who will know what nobody else knows, that #WhoIsOnFirst

You know it, you’ve known all along, since day One, you cried without reason, the sun burst!

Sippin’ or knockin’ ‘em back, makes no difference in the end, only at the origin, dawn’s day

Dancin’ with me or the devil, your choice, it’s freedom and liberty you wanted, you gots it

Nobody to tell you what to do and when you can do it, break the law at your own risky chit

Bet it all on the sure thing, nobody can lose when everybody wins, in the end, punk, it’s OK.

At the party later than expected, my critical mass delayed the inevitable, I’m all #WayGone

Bit more than I could chew when I bit off the fat hunk of tobacco plug but hey, just don’t trip

Movin’ in and out of conscious choke-to-death upchuck, cleared My Way for a stiff upper lip

On the last day before your own final breaths and gasps cease, no regrets, you were my pawn!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday Nine One, September 1, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ gestated this creation while listenin’ to #AllJackedUp by Gretchen Wilson soakin’ up some #Jack #WTHOneMoreShot on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/D0wAQNzK0Ow }

W.W.A.R.D.?