DAZED YOYO’s WAR OF SQWAT
At the start of Fire, when there was nobody, no monkeys, gods or apes here, death pantheons
Not in China or anywhere else over here, God’s cosmic trip of a holy scrotum’s divine health
Putting Yin in the Yang is all it is, nothing more complicated than filling the hole’s in stealth
Brief insanity between lucidity of hopes and dreams of honey and taxes, happy ape-man sons.
It is all a mother and father could hope for, passing the gauntlet of pretender dreams of Pan
To the sons and daughters who inherit the faded crock of bull scat left over by an uncle’s fan
Big time music of rocking and rolling as if there’s no tomorrow, in the cloud, #Stratocaster’s
Plugged in the amp and reverb took over the hall of empty sound, nothing but hot air festers.
Out of the black and blue, night and day of the skies color, nothing comes of it but your tea
To drink or to smoke, never to eat in the sandwich or the flaumbet casserole of a witch’s key
Magic spell of words in a con-game of grafters and drifters who know squat about my papa
Why humans exist, why life exists for the gods’ den, a garden of Eden, oh Venus! Oh mama!
Paraphrased for the punks corroborating comprehensive apprehension, looky here, no hands
A puff and whiff of a jock strap in a pie hole, where things enter before sinkin’ down in Sands
Losing what the losers never find again, a second wind of the second city’s android i-phones
Out of the six feet deep ground below the granite headstones, inside aluminum foiled bones.
Squeeze all of your blossoming flesh, fat cells of your misshaped DNA into ringin’ dumbbells
Keep it all inside of the genome, there’s no other choice, it’s the nature of the hungry beasts
To eat, to drink and fill up holes with the squalor of Montezuma’s halls, food and scat of hells
Madagascar to Antarctica, Rio Linda to Oak Park in America and over to Timbuktu, at least!
It all rolls downhill because that’s where the graves are, underground no more than sixty feet
Where the animals and bugs cannot find you to eat you, only worms where you’ve been to eat
Rockin’ and rollin’ in the groove from the East to the West side of the Great Lakes, all over It
Just in time for the end, I remember it all, WAY down inside me, beautiful! I ain’t got Schit!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. September 3rd, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to #AllDayMusic LIVE The Original WAR Band on the youTube link @ https://youtu.be/n58Vdz67C1o }
W.W.A.R.D.? FINIS
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