#HunterSThompson @HunterThompson

SILVER TRANSMUTED INTO GOLD, BYGONES WATER INTO CHERRY VINO

Heartbroken by a zipper made at a first beat, barked up a tree, open dream

Remember the meaning of the key to the locked box when there is no hope 

Underground & under the bridges over the rivers that run, ridin' dirty pope

You may be high or drunk when you read this, if so, ya know it's two thirty.

A last call for alcohol I shouted to an empty baroom of ghosts with tattoos

You know & I know that nobody gets out of here alive, perpetual rainbows

Rain and shine will find me underneath the hot, burning, atomic job-blows

With water, milk, dead plants & animals, we'll love 'til we run out of clues!

Gods flying jets all over the air space of seven continents and island refuges

Bombs away all over the carpet, rectangular smoke screen cover up please

Switch off your projector and your silver screen, lights out, darker & darker

360 degrees to modify a microscopic presence, fragmented radii diameter.

Motion is sometimes locomotion if the engine pulls the weight on my tracks

Trippin' on your own two feet is the M.O. of the swingin' hip ones of my eye

Chances are I'll be hookin' up with one or the other, it's my soul callin' tricks

Wired and higher than the highest mountain top, Mt Everest below me pie.

Looking and hearing the goods, the matter & forms, it nearly makes sense

Bangin' the hot pounder that needs the movement & a feral attitude lens

It could be worse you could have said what was really on your mind, caput

Leave you alone, no problem, leave me alone, bend over man, kiss my fruit.

Last call for the alcohol festered out of the ground pounders & their sons

Daughters and wives all cookin' the spells up with unwritten incarnations

That lady and guy, them & the others coast to coast, all seven continents

Senses cancelled their functions, taste & smell, sight and sound, touch left.

I am what I am, can't stand no more, scored triple doubles, shirt-skins win

What the issue can be is that there's a winner & a loser or both, all audiofile

Seriously & in no random order, moved to In & Out for triple-double style

Sound out my mouth's clear & loud, when it's over, it's over, I drink my gin.

Nailed the thieves up against the timber with 16 penny nails, hurt 'em bad

Paidback the karma for the stolen and broken, none of it my fault, all yours

Chartreuse and fuschia crayola eating contest won by the free and the brave

Girls without dads, moms with no sons' eyes blinkin', in 6 foot deep graves.

Programmed for freedom & a formidable adversary of indentured servants

Mo, Maureen, Joe & GeriLynn all went for it at the same time, wise savants

From 8 miles up higher that the ground gets pounded, I am powering it up

Height of God's Climax, moved & animated old deadheads, drunk on a cup.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Mardi, March VIIIth, MMXXII Anno Domini

{ Phishing' in fine Columbian and Cuervo Gold, caught my limit, Unlicensed all the while listenin' to #TimeOutOFMind by @SteelyDan at youTube link @ https://youtu.be/RKz_G4wrJ-8 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?