#ricoSacto

Sunday, May 17, 2020

#Rattlesnakin' #BlownHotshots & #ReignO'Rain

REIGN O’ RAIN, BLOWN HOTSHOTS
Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, May 17, 2020
****** #OutOfDough *****
Deserted stone can’t be told that it’s All what it is, they don’t like bein’ the old One-2, say hey
Soberly drunk from worms & Tequila in your tank, a tiger caught by the tail over there today
Flights are cancelled and the First Mover has begun the slam on the brakes, a fixin’ cold cash
It may not be enough to kill it all, starved acolytes of the dreamer’s dream to die at a Safeway.

Fiddling with the drum sticks and sawin’ the violin’ or blowin’ in holes of big bassoon horns
Passin’ the Time in this Space, one moment at a time, recollecting the good times of bad boys
Looked for the bad girls and found them far from their mamas and papas, no daddy no more
It’s all for One and One for all, a musketeer without peer, there’s not one challenge but four.

One, two, three counts ad infinitum, you go when you must and remain static in slick satin
A coughing up the river until the final gasp of gas, spirit’s what it’s always been, gas of sad Sin
Here on the dirty rocks, my home of my grandfathers and grandmothers, all gone but I’m not
I am here, I am important to the solar system, galaxy and universe, forgot again, forgot robot.

Pink’s hot, red’s hotter, white and black are not, brown cannot stick around yellow cake sheet
Goodbye mama and don’t come back just because you’re dead and gone, comin’ in pink floyd
Evermore dream state from conception to the deception of the reasons for rockin’ & rollin’ It
All there is and all we have is nothing special, theoretically the zero, empty of matter, A Void.

She played me and he played me, they played me like slide trombones & honky saxophones
Moving the chords up and down the scales, four or five or three at a time to notes I won’t do
Pills to swallow because you cannot eat the fuel raw and de-boned, so debonair I am, OMGs
We are not the people, we’re nuggets of flint and pebbles of basalt from volcanic lava seas.

A period, a comma, a colon, exclamation or question mark matters in the Rag of holy songs
Sung by voices or jacked up to make pluckin’ or blowin’ or beatin’ noises, to right the wrongs
In Blues or in Jazz or Classical or Rock and Roll, it’s a waltz through the millennia, dancin’ it
Step by step, forward, back sideways and up until the song ends, a shuffle, a ritual DNA fight.

To survive without the bones that will be buried or burned is inconceivable, hell, I’m a man
I spell and I have the blind faith that ends with the AMEN and the walk away, a divine scan
To measure the good, the bad and ugly memories of the Game of Love, the stupefying routine
Truth mommy & daddy told you was true, it’s no lie, you’re a Homer, a tweeted valentine!

Who can scrape the washboard? Play the spoons and slap the thighs like my thumpin’ a sign
Animal skins and bones, all of the sinews and tendons makin’ the music with the woods’ pine
Preordained to punk out from the battles and wars, hiding behind the miniskirts and weeds
Nothing left to be recalled, the rest of Space’s story is playin’ out now, All came, we’re Seeds.

Sons of the beach, gas of the life and death’s planetary fauna from pole to pole, keep spinning
It’ll all come around, based balls have got to go, contained matrix juice, hit tree pine batting
Balls so big and small, round to bounce and roll from wall to wall, borderline to boundary ‘G’
Mackin’ on all the babes with my Words of flesh n’ bone, mind brainfog & leakin’ guts, OMG!

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, May 17th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 7:11 AM PST
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?

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