#BeGladYouAreNotGlass #WindyCityThunder #YouThinkYoureFLY LOLLYPOP

IT’S A HIT MAN, AS WE KNOW IT

As the rooster crows the cock-a-doodle-doo, I awaken from slumber still aloof of Time
Space has the things in the path I take, I go up and down, in and out of the narrow way
It is not allowed by the powers that be, you and me, to give up and die due to neglect
Of your mother and father, aunts and uncles and their distant kin, mammal and insect.

Horrific tales of the important lessons that the dead people command, most orphans
Do not do this and that or else you’re in trouble, threatening with incarceration dens
Possible end of life in a hangman’s noose, gas chamber, shock or jump off a high cliff
Keys to the function’s all inside your head not with a batman janitor or overlord stiff.

Bums and junkies won’t know or see anything coming in the wake of their dissolution
En masse at the holy mass of the congregated crew of blinded yet faithful men in Sin
Mortal, just all too humane to be divine, life moves it all, animates a whole dang thing
But what’s life but the gravity that sucks us down to Earth, on a prayer & angel wing.

I bet a sawbuck that you are in the fine print of a contract that I didn’t read at all, et al
Not only but also compound the simple matrix void in final termination of this dirt ball
With or without you and the huff and puff that blew you into a hodge podge herd mix
Fools hired for the royal family to amuse their boredom’s rock hall, a royal need, a fix.

They set ‘em up & tore ‘em down, roadies the spirit of a tour de force’s holy rock trip
Uptight and out of sight, only those who remain cool when others have lost the skip
Around the world as we all know it, not the world imagined by the fictional science
But the cosmic bubble within the void of the black hole’s singularity, you half-pints!

Pinker than a hot pink panther in a cartoon marathon, beginning & ending without a word
Silence of your teachers’ thoughts & terminology function is critical race theory steroid lord
I sweep the dust underneath the rug until the rug disappeared, then I vacuumed the shining
I’m Coates of Wax & dirty rocks’ cosmic dust from the feet of the queen & dead hero Viking.

If you identify with the majority opinion of strangers you don’t know, you’re hopelessness
As such, as you are, a conscious bag of bones but not in on the cosmic gag on the hapless
Not you or me or anyone any of us know can survive the body’s life ending, yet I get it all
Handpicked Holes for noble remains awaiting final judgement’s #Rising, come on up, y’all!

Over easy or hard to get, eggs or paradise lost, creator created not the creation’s breach
It is the obligation of a creator to be responsible for the creation, if no creator, no leach
Nothing’s to worship like the sunshine of a random star we’ve evolved from atomically
No soul shining in or out of the joints, Nirvana and Hades are a myth of fear, mentally.

Found yourself afraid yet at the top of the tidewaters, in fear and loathing of your father
Behind you he said, then he pushed you ahead on your own, just you & the thrill bastard
Hunting to haunt others for the rest of my born days, I’m the monster in the dark parlor
Be very afraid that the fear might choke you, artificially intelligent as your Ma & a father.

It could have been one of the many boyfriends who may resemble sin retrospect, all elves
Blind and hard of hearing of any sound, only can feel the vibrations of the things themselves
The world as I know it has nothing to do with your world as you know it, all my compendium
Whatever unknown makes a hit, this is that, albeit tough enough to join the material scrum.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mercredi, March XXIInd, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 888 AMPST
{ Kicked you in the head, it’s what the mule does when necessary, sometimes you must put it in the hand of the @GovernmentMule & jam on link @ https://youtu.be/6BuGF7_86PY }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?