A BLACKHOLE GHOST, MY FOO FOO
On the far-side of the moons of Pluto, there’s a thought about an idea that’s too close to gods’
Without knowing what’s going on at any given moment in Time and Space, you race hotrods
Just because you thought you were so pretty, you may or may not get the point, now it’s moot
From the crowns of the flowers that rise above the stems and seeds that are givin’ a holy hoot.
It matters very little but one thing’s for certain and for sure, indeed It Is The One, it’s all good
Better and best of bad and ugly squares make the whole world go Lady Gaga Foo Foo, so sad
Rebel Yell electrons around the neutrons and protons of simple atoms, theoretically, my bad
Not for any small reason, I’m going to admit it, it’s shocking but true, I’m dreamin’ ugly, boo.
Not just that I am dreamin’ but that I’m dreamin’ that y’all exist on the plane of a planet
In a New York minute or just a moment before the descent into the Singularity’s Big Blow
Tellin’ you that an angel, devil or alien UFOs are mere DNA mutants from Island Morreau
Mixed up in a hodgepodge of surrealistic pillows that nobody is allowed to sleep ‘til sunset.
Silence in the loud bangs on the gongs when you go deaf and your ears won’t hear the beats
Toes tappin’ to the rhythm of the near side of the far side and every side but the East side
South side like the West Side is nothing like the North Side, where I come from, the streets
Played baseball, softball, hockey, Frisbee, four corners on the dead end, one way easy ride.
Any man on Earth who hasn’t analyzed his personal limitations by the by, hehl, he’s 5 for five
Hard to hit that percentage right on the money, it can be done though, wings up, got your six
Fully optimized with the faith of blindmen with ocular degeneration, sometime to be US alive
A man about town from Illinois said that there were fathers Abe called ours, 87 years of 1776.
A reality of Monsters who want to scare you and your kin into fake battles of war game debts
You and I will owe all alive and dead, unimmaculate conceptions of infancy, Will’s empty sets
Nevermore will liberty be the feeling of inhumane omnipotent omniscience, to be me, at one
Blind boys look up, down, 360 degrees around to see a 20/20 vision, I blackout, my only sun.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. February 23rd, 2020 Anno Domini @ 6:66 AM PST
{ Drafted listenin’ to #HERO in a loop de loop MariahCarey Mimicareyou link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/0IA3ZvCkRkQ }
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