SHE’S IN A BLACK HOLE OF CATS *
You really didn’t want to go there but you did, nobody forced you nor me, it’s a free willy gig
Obfuscation is clearly the modus operandi of the laws of gravity and centrifugal force’s wig
Not for any small reason, this is the stuff that dreams are made of, the very thing you got
Breathing, animated bodies and souls of civilized colonies of a homo sapiens genome dot.
A nucleus of an atom and a conglomeration of them do what they do, fusion or fission too
Explode or implode the perfect circles, triangles and polygons from above as below the blue
Skies around the dirty water, I love that dirty water though, without H2O, it’s a quid pro quo
Perfectly one and the same, from a rogue DNA egg we extrapolate it all, a Biden 2020 blow.
In my jet of an SUV, me and my hot co-pilot track the highways and rural routes, shields high
Bugs can’t stay on the grill, they disintegrate, windshield coated with UFO skin, chips’ shield
There’s a disagreement and a dispute and a threat and a battle, a war and an end to the Sky
In other words, rogues attempt a coup d’etat and fail, get captured and executed on the field.
Inside the house or outside of the atmosphere where angels fear to go, corruption bloodbath
Hoaxes are exposed by the liars who use their precious air with a collusion illusionary dossier
Pretend to be your friend when really you’re the object of a philosophical opponent’s Id wrath
Need a getaway sled for a trek up the hill to the Sierra Nevadas, I got a key, you can rock me!
For the sake of the planet’s substance application to this existence found here and now, I bow
Knuckleheads and worthy saints putting one wing in front of the other, on the runway to Tao
Where nothing is, everything is and has always been, how it all got here in the first place, yes
Winks and nods from superman with neither body nor extra-sense, sleazy bribe God to bless.
Every minute of every day you remind me of the story I’ve been reading, telling it at the rack
Every breath and every swallow I am privileged to steal from the bottom of the bottles’ Jack
Happy to pass out or fight about the flight from here to eternity, you know where it’s goin’ ta
Hot rods runnin’ on the strip and over to the malt shop drive-thru for Betty Sue & Veronica.
by
r j j stephan, i *Header is our #Sled, now I spilled the beans on the wicked witch of the west!
c. Saturday, BLOVEMBER 14th, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 PM PST
{ drafted this little gem while jammin’ to Nickelblack - Nickelback Tribute Band #ShakinHands & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Dxi28-abUpw }
W.W.A.R.D.?
No comments:
Post a Comment
YOUR 2 cents...if you don't mind? ;-)