LET 'EM EAT CHERRY PIE CAKE, STEPPIN' RIGHT ON IT
You're as drunk as anybody's ever gonna be when they inhale the freedom of smoke signals
Hung pretty low on the vine so the apes could git the chit, they can't climb with four hands
Need the feet to get fed, to climb the trees full of fruit & nuts, helpin' us make the TNT blow
Just like the stars blow their gas up their holy black holes and white dwarves in utero flow.
Punks and their queer parents who failed to download respect for the Golden Rules, repeats
The trippin' never ends if you're lucky & if you're not in the money, it's poor boys & girl sheets
On the sidewalk, in the alley or up in the crib, I've been where you are, it's where I've been too
It's all said and done a long time ago, in a peace pipe of tobacky smokin', divine rowin' crew.
Sweat off your head gettin the smoke to the jars, employed my kin to make the #420 million
Grounds roots to the higher buds' flowering pinnacle of sunlight & seed, DNA love's a demon
Inside my head, never behind the bars, never allowing habits to take over the Trip, my pace son
Nobody makes me rush or slow down, I know my limitations, I'm a mortal, I just ain't the One.
Before the ends become all there is, we all get a shot at the middle path to get to the deep end
If you're loved or not, still you're alive & better off than the aborted & diseased innocent kin
Hearts and souls that never arrived except DOA look at the ungrateful here & now disrespected
Hound dogs and the worms that crawl in and out of the grounds of being, just a mortal's Sin.
Wheels either, two, three, four or eighteen don't matter one bit, mothers interconnected it all
Dagger in my heart and a dagger in yours, cut so sharp that we didn't even know there was a Ho
Damaged beyond repair but the scar was covered by a tattoo of the knife's blade goin' through
To the other side so the blood can't escape into the Void, outside of me, I don't know the Who.
Spent the bread because it was just a wad of paper in my deep pocket, mazzeratti & a condo
In Tahoe where nobody goes except the wolves, deer & the deep snow where angels don't go
No wings down here, can't fly 'cause I gotta walk one foot in front of the other, I'm free as air
Hands on or off of the fields of broken dreams due to unearned runs and extra-base hit faire.
A game is over when it's over and you have discovered the best of all possible worlds above
Ground of being where the losers cause the winners to get the spoils of Earth's dirty ol' love
Where babies become the disoriented and disillusioned therefore, become the new sheeple
Little lambs created by the high school girls & other depositories of the semen, all too human.
Martyrs defined by their refusal to STFU if they cannot utilize reason, what it is is what it was
About the nature of Life, presence of orphans & bundles of joy who got older than dirty words
But not before the Word was made flesh & bone like the rest of the slaves, no masters of Oz
Armor over the thin skin to protect from blows & slices, absolutely a placebo for poor laws.
Grimmer than the reaper is the one among us all who discovers the apple of the third eye
Even up the odds once the boys get back to town & find out that there's pi 3.14 in the sky
True that it's no more nor less than this, a measurement glitch without a remedy to apply
Rhinestones cowboys & the herd from Flintstone to Einstein is the formula of equality, aye.
A rhumba of funk in the final catastrophic finale of the fiasco, still doin' it like an old man can
As if I'd stop because I turned seventy, come on man, it's a matter of intent and ability to scam
Only you know what I know, #MonkeyPox is ahead of the curve with a 3-2 full count, homerun
There's only one other way to end the game, 2 outs, 3-2 full count, strikeout, pony league done.
A 420 reprieve for the minions to track their hopes & dreams of illusory realities nobody gets
Ever for most but never for all, it's not all for One & One for all, that's an old wives' fairy frets
Hit in the head with a fastball, it so happens that YOU die, a 3.14 cares, all that's left to sing
Please the propositional logic of the stone junkies who've built a house on a tower of babbling.
Logical Positivism has persuaded nobody about anything, you got a lot of nerve, that is all
MASH unit or just the concrete and steel of the street that the bums & junkies use to Fall
Here at the downside of heaven, below whatever is above this load of 10 commandments
Everything's beautiful, even a blind man sees cosmic wavelengths look like infrared nights.
Babies who live past the birth canal or the wide open caesarean, C-Section stab in the face
Scar on my forehead over my eyebrows to remind me of the surgeon's malpractice disgrace
Not her fault that it happened, it all started with the charlatans and quacks back in the day
Now very highly reputable organizations of the same ilk, their great, great grand children say.
It won't matter in the long run once the gravity overwealms the cosmos' low volume of atoms
All yours & all our bones' blood & the entire rest of other living animals & plants will implode
You're an idiot & believe me it takes one to know one, wait! What? Yes, I said it. I'm one too
But two wrongs don't make cherry pie right? IRS hired me to get the gold, a 3.14 motherlode.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Lundi, August VIIIth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 111 PMPST
{ Drafted as I listened to ambulance sirens & @TheAllmanBrothersBand #ABB #HittinTheNote (2002) on @Funkheads youTube link @ https://youtu.be/BRHy036_H4I }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
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