#sicknessOfSpandex @ParableOfParabolas #SicknessUntoLife #HealthyCorpusDillectus #BigBudsBug

parable VERTEX & DIRECTRIX high fOCUS’ latus rectum of PARABOLAS

Alternate your generator from the current to feature the wave or the slipstream

Hangin’ Ten while surfin’ on the New World’s disorder, Stewie’s whipped cream

Required for the iced yet not frozen stiff, a mouthful of that sugar & you will sigh

Miracles may or may not be in your future and you may not believe it, God’s high.

Metamorphizes your soul on ice into the leader of the chain of fools into the king

Of the mice and the all too human offspring of Adam, Eve and the lightening sting

Just an accident of being in the right place at the right time, happy face on avatars

Mean with the blue hue or a purple haze pouring from a cloud nine’s uptown bars.

Out of the military, missing in action, killed in action, prisoner of the war on peace

Punch in your own face, two or three times the normal force, at sea, lost the keys

Ship I sailed on could not be sunk by the almighty ocean, my will power made a pie

Every fruit & meat inside of a holy flower crust, pudding too, it’s my mood, oh my!

I beat myself up because nobody else can, nobody will, I am as invisible as a ghost soul

Where & when you began in concept, minimum two random minds in collision of dough

Matters not one bit that you can smash yourself harder than your moms’ or dads’ fists

Junk is the manufactured elements combined to addict the hearts & souls to evil bliss.

Brutal to be innocent and fully compliant to direct orders from ne’er-do-wells yet killed

By bats and blackjacks smackin’ all 208 bones, 100 muscles plus or minus, blood filled

Flight of the bananas from the tops of the trees to the mouths of the apes, it’s over, eh

Barren females of eventually here and gone males and any other recombinant RNA/DNA.

Thanks the gods or just One God off of this planet’s surface, most claim above & below

Welcome all of this strife and struggle to survive, learning ABC’s & critical economic low

Being poor to begin with and never likely to dig any way up and out of the dark, holy end

Heaven? Come on man! Hell? Come on man! Fear the Fear itself, Goddess’ Zen friend.

Whispered words I couldn’t hear and now can’t repeat regardless of the hopes & dreams

Remember the recollection only a moment prior to the gasp and gulp of the love’s finale

Scared yet brave enough to enter the arena of hungry lions & feral tigers of a naked king

By a stretch of the imagination, you sucked hind teat when I knocked you out in the ring.

Milling around the continents, the smoke signals disappeared before the message’s blog

Something about nothing at all that attracts the attention of the beings’ all high on a hog

Eating plants & animals to stay alive, it’s what all fauna does in every galaxy’s revolution

Atoms, photons of photosynthesis ala electron, proton & neutron in orgasmic venial sin.

Ape-men look at the chimps and other apes as simple minded, nearly all too human ilk

Not to be eaten, that monkey meat, dead muscles of the primate not OK, only 4 legged

2 legged only if a bird or anything inhumane, not so human, kinda like the evil boys’ crew

Girls raised into the women who behave as trained, as are the dogs of war, dead lead do.

High sticking is a penalty in any hockey game unless it’s unseen by the referee who blinks

Eyes wide open sometimes close a second or two for some shut-eye, that’s Time, me thinks

Nobody taught me the ABC’s in any other language, American English after the native steal

Incorporated the Franco-Anglo Atilla the Hun causes of the effects, civilized food, good deal.

Reform school for the uncooperative to discipline against the ego, kill will for your own good

Must be a problem for the low IQ supervising part of the herd, it ain’t a problem for the brood

They all are like you and your kin, don’t like the ugly or things that stink or taste like bull scat

Fun like you had when you were innocent and not able to feel guilt for tasting a Covid19 bat.

Lower underneath the synapsis where angels fear to go, I’m all in Hollywood, on a blue screen

Furnished the furniture in the 40-room mansion, from cellar to top floor in the tower of power

Luck has nothing to do with anything, all intent of the will to power, survivin’ on smoked flower

All want to nudge you deep down inside, they control that impulse, I’m inbred gods blue-green.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, Janvier XXXth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 711 AMPST

{ Jammin’ to @TheStylistics #YoureAGenieInDisguise on link @ https://youtu.be/gLo8tQ0vIxo }

F I N I S

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