MASS OF A FAKE DRAFT-DODGER
I was a teenager in the ‘60’s just waitin’ for my lottery number, got too high to go to War
It’s not my fault that I wasn’t one of the chosen sacrificial lambs to die in a rice patty mud
In my own and my brothers’ blood, we grew the rice that eventually grew into the food do
Where the excreted elements of fire, water and the dirty filth of the planet’s cosmic pooh!
It isn’t the way of the warrior to begin the fight before the first battle, yet here I am, it begins
Way down deep inside of the older men of the American population, those born & raised kin
Of the Howdy Doody and Captain Kangaroo bunch, Rocky and Bullwinkle, it’s chromosomes
You are just the same only different in the DNA replication combination of random genomes.
Playin’ ball on the dead end side streets we lived on from sewer to sewer wasn’t fun enough
We had to fight for basketballs in the alley where our dads put up backboards and rim hoops
Nets of the basket always cut down by local jerkoffs, they’re all dead and gone now, it’s rough
But anyways, I just met her, the one who inspires the inner wealth of nonsense, dum-phuqs!
OK, I need no rent and I don’t need no bag of groceries but I do need to find the lost gizzards
My brothers & sisters from other fathers & illegitimate mothers, sisters of 7 continent beats
Blood freezing in the cold tundra or boiling in the bug infested jungles of the extinct lizards
We ate what we could to keep the grass from growing too high so the cats could sneak #Eats.
Precious ash and filth of the dead star ready to bury me and the history of birth, to be or not
In utero, it’s a 50/50 chance you’ll make it out of the hole alive and then, well you know, hot
Where angels fear to go, near monsters like we the people, ain’t no angels in reality, so now?
Mythological paraphrasing of the recorded notions of the ignorant & wise, same guys’ blow!
In the omega field of the dream, your final 40 winks as a Big Bang rapture ruptures the Ends
May not be today or tomorrow, came up too fast, sudden yet certain, countin’ on holy Bends
Blood snitchin’ the Ends, #StolenValor let me put my chant on yo’’ rats’ lips, “Shoulda went”
“Nothing to fear but Fear itself,” satisfactory Truth, naturally son, you’re a dead hero, #Gent!
Police and military revolutionary puttin’ the hammer down on #ChiCom fake gangster thugs
3rd world country scuz/scum comin’ on a southern caravan up thru Southern American bugs
Stopped cold at the iced shut borders from Baja to New Orleans, even down to a Miami shore
We are the ones they’re coming for, the safe and sound inside of a Trojan Horse’s belly door.
Serving somebody’s what the human genome does, under arrested development, to live & die
That’s all there is between the Big Bang and a total annihilation of Matter’s deep, purple Voids
Other than that, have a great time trying to survive & hunt for food, shelter, mama’s apple pie
Nothing to see here but jokes of caveman writing on rock walls, #FakeNews hoax of androids.
In fear and loathing of the fear itself, One comes out of nowhere and ends Light, we go Dark
Nothing changed since the last time we were there, before the climax of a souped up hot-rod
All of it or none of it will be what it’s always been, a testing ground for accidental #Southpark
A dream within a ship’s dream of cartoons, phqn flock of #WahWahs who lost ‘ways’ of God!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, Aprile 26th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 7:11 AM PST
{ Drafted while listenin’ to #HITS of random sequence via logarithmic gyrations of a Being that moves It, #ImYourCaptain by The American Band. Grand Funk Railroad. on youTube @ https://youtu.be/FrlE3JOQ7bE }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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