TRANSUBSTANTIATION BLUES' NEWS
In the future when it is somebody's past, as it's recalled and recollected by hayseeds in the hay
Happiness is a given goal and the place we've escaped from, any mother's port in the storm, say
Monkeys and slithering snakes all got the message and left the homo sapiens who've gone too far
Which thing itself each of us are, you, me and your mama, man you're a DMF but hey, purple Car.
It's a magical Christmas in the ends, although it's a mere feeling of ending of one's seasonal fight
To be or not to be, your rational thought of subjects and their predication of objects in black light
My friends, you see me and now you don't, what's a friend other than someone who'll die for you
Matter and Forms come and go in the menudo of sensational, random collisions, all souls' la bou.
Conditional paraphrasing of 70 to a hundred years of experience, give or take, I'll just feed my pig
It's only a bank of my loose change from my paper routes and Kentucky fried chicken slavery gig
By candlelight in a blackout, from 16 to 18, I fried birds in 450 degree grease hot, deep gash cuts
As it should be, everybody in the Windy City consumed the birds like bears & bulls, apechit nuts!
Now then, is it snowing yet? Just show me the pathway where you want me to shovel for entry
It will cost you five dollars and I'll be done in an hour, that's my fee and I understand, I can't lie
I hate shoveling the sky's mess, it's not my fault that it's on the ground, it's Jesus' & Buddah man
Can't blame it on Krishna or the oldest moslem who feared the mean, bad man, sir Genghis Khan.
If & only if you are aware of your soul's mortality and your blinded belief in above & below myth
Then there will be no more sorrow between the happy daze between your ears, a skull cap stith
It's as if the One thing itself banged a gong & then looked around to lock in a target, It's all gone
Imagine this now, you ain't mon amie, mama or papa, your mouth agape jibjabbin' on an iPhone.
Start there, get ready, get set and go to the finish line, the race is gonna end, you ain't gonna win
Say you're so sorry for your following your programmed fool DNA, it ain't my fault, my Sensai sin
It's over when it's over, whomever can't read won't know what I'm talkin' about, lightening light
Christ's mass of Blues never lost in Space, 2022 Christmas' empty holes, I'm winning a knife fight.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. FREEZEMBER XIXth, MMXXI Anno Domini
{ #CornedBeef & #JalipenoPoppers in your Noxema clear face, seriously, drafted this while listenin' to #PleaseComeHomeForChristmas by the @EaglesBand in a loop, https://youtu.be/lFWe2aVrIbo & @GwenStefani & @BlakeShelton #YouMakeItFeelLikeChristmas link @ https://youtu.be/3ZT9_H4-hbM }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
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