#KIRSTY #RIP XO #NutbushCityLimits

COMEDY & TRAGEDY, STRIKE 3, EXIT STAGE RIGHT

Black as the darkness between the burning balls of gas during infinity’s reign

Calling balls, strikes, offsides, goals, homeruns, touchdown & end games of zero

Champions of runnin’ to and fro, runnin’ into one another & the brothers of Mo

And Curly and Larry and the rest of the stooges, a trio or a quartet, maybe so.

 

Mozart playin’ the Joe Satriani and Joe Bonamassa guitars as if they’re his own

Blow the chunks of rock and roll them down the mountain of megadreams of I’s

In every case, in the mode of formal logic, there’s only 4 possible cases of Truth

Either I’m right or I’m wrong, vampire-werewolf comin’ dead outta my mouth.

 

I am a GOAT, yes you have honored the inclination to recognize wisdom’s End

What I am is the closest to nobody and nothing that you can approach, I offend

You and my mother and father and my great grand folks I duplicated, DNA form

Matter is dirty, dead star leftovers, we guard The End as if it’s the Original Sin.

 

Outfield and backfields is out of your ballpark, your arena of work & play’s over

An illusion you’ve craved has been used, abused & taken for granted, my lover

The common ground can’t be found once you’re deaf, dumb & blinded by light

It’s what a man does, a man-fred kind, a dose of the road full of groupie might.

 

It ain’t my fault, it’s a faux pas of a creator which makes imperfect forms, eh?

It hurt so good that you just let it be right there where it wound up, deep sea

Of Jack and Diane or Carol & Richie, the thing itself rings inside the liberty bell

Words misspelled mean the same thing, essence precedes Man’s existence hell.

 

I’m what you’ve wanted to be, stoned out of the mind I inherited from my dad

My mom did what she could to cancel my culture, yet she failed, gods’ ‘re sad

Slaves do the work, drones, robots, men and women of letters or sub-humanity

Commercial robotics come between my soul and my utter excellence of all me.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c. Freezember VIth, MMXXII Anno Domini, Mardi @ 777 AMPST

{ High low ground zero as gravity is, gravity does…What would the fox say? }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

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