IV XX #AdInfinitum #PapaDontPreach #TikTokThis #MindVOIDeadEnds #KeepYoBabyMama #DaddyDaddio

@WOKE RHETORIC AIN'T MY FAULT #Supercalifragilisticexpealidotious

Monkeys see and mock the sight, it's an ape-like special, thoroughbred race purse

In the darkness without a light from the street's sun, the moon or hot campfire

Censor you because you're free and need to be a prince, monger's pauper curse

As you were, justice buried deeper than the misled disinformation funeral pyre.

Submerged down under the subways and elevated above & below turnpikes

Speechless every time the spotlight shines in my eyes, know all three are blind

Third eye light of a silvery, dead moon, satiates thirsty gods drunk on my wine

That Earth is moving without knowing it's moving, information revolution, fine.

 The Many RIP before I was conceived and I'll be One, like them in due time, wait

On the clock, a time piece of any type to measure the revolution of Earth's body

How long it takes by seconds, minutes & hours to roll around to the same Space

After the Wars come the brief Peace times I had the oven full of the baked Race.

All of the dead animals get baked, cooked or fried & get eaten to recycle to ol' devils

Way down under the tall oak & pine trees where I live, up and down yonder of villes

Bugs flyin' and crawlin' everywhere just like the kin folk and strangers who play silly

Jungles where the cats await my sight, on the corner, by the tavern, west side story.

Smoked 'em when I had the cigarettes, straights or filters, all were a Lucky Strike blow

Field stripped the end of the ash and wasted tobacco ends, recycled back to the smoke

Nearly invisible except for the leftover effect in the brain effects on mind & body bone

Apparently the addiction cuts your Time in Space in half or more, it's no accident tone.

Really want to die earlier than you deserve then continue the magical deletion of Life

Put you underground and maybe if your kin thinks about it, burn you too, up in smoke

No evidence that you were ever Here & Now, junk left behind less Sanford & Son relics

Safe section of a junkyard where only the sorrow survives, wounded, scarred, #WOKE!

Begin at the end of the story I've heard before you told it, you heard it from me, funny

You knew it was me in the story right?  Shots echo down the hallway, I got shot, sirens

Comin' for the bones, the street won't let me get to the doctor in time for the patchup

Let it all be, it's already gone anyway, not wounded, I'm dead, it's the jungle, Time UP!

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Samedhi, Aprile XXXth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Preachers hate the WORD, therefore I am sayin' WORDS for the #Plethora of beautiful human minds & bodies who #GetIt, #KnowWhereImCominFrom?  yup ... jammed to #TikTokCountryMusicDance in a loop @ https://youtu.be/8AxbQZiRPMc }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D?