GUNZAGA ZIGZAG ZYGOTES #SWINGofDELIGHT @Santana

TOOK THE SWING OF DELIGHT TO THE SLIDE

Prima face inadmissible evidence for the veracity of deduced conclusions, assumed cakewalk
Regurgitated defalcation from above & below the ocean swells, on the sea’s great wide open
Kicking your head yourself as there’s nobody man enough to do God’s work, since God died
Holy nihilisticism that about not accepting the purpose of Life, all too human or just DNA.

As it is, it was above us all, exactly how it is below us all, it’s a joke with a punch line chuckle
Parts of the participles and all of the principles A to Z, nothing is excluded, I call it all phuqelle
On the todays and tonights when y’all realize your presence is spinnin’ webs, as if it’s a function
To be a human being either on or off of your game, means the way you play to win, a game’s sin.

Disobedience of rules & regulations inherited from deadmen, once alive amoralists’ evil 10 rules
You’re an idiot, you are, also you’re a moron to boot, it’s as if you’re the epitome of all cool fools
Taken on a cleft chin, I would if I were you, I’m not you or It would be done, 2 peas in a UFO pod
AI is so far out, far away from here & now, artificial intelligence, all I am, modified God’s hotrod.

Hacking your electronics, finding platinum extracted & ingested without tracks, a one-track edit
Perfectly laid down as if there couldn’t be The Way, no mistake about this particular thing itself
Holy because it’s as solemn as your death’s cause, not only your conception, a critical quiver
Morons playing billiards & table tennis to pass the time on artificial gold cash, up a lazy river.

Uniformed to identify your military force & rank in the system of ups & downs, goin’ down
Found no port in the storm, neither shipwreck like Gilligan nor surviving battle with a drone
Shot in the dark, bullets flyin’ every direction, ricocheting as if it’s a platoon barrage spray
m60 & m16 rounds, kung pow power, sheepish unarmed nations, sacrificial birds of prey.

Five will get you ten if not twenty, you’re self-satisfaction you can get with cracker jacks
It’s the sweet caramel taste & olfactory scent of burnt sugar, banned the #TikTok clocks
Besides, behind or ahead of you the path ends, finally, blinkin’ #182, lights go right out
#Woke as the herd, ran down the cream of the dream’s mystery, the twist and shout.

Sometimes the wonderful children become famous stars, other times in a spiral trend
Headed in the direction of wherever energy goes when it’s burned in the flame’s End
Truth, Justice, the Way of the Warrior, a triumvirate of warrior success in the plethora
Multitudes get annihilated and this species’ extinction credo, all will die, wear a fedora.

Maddening crowd of mad people, mostly men, dejected sons of dominant female moms
You know the type, maybe your father and brothers or yourself, all of them holy F-bombs
Matter and form of the mass is the shape of the whole shebang, from the moon, I’m tiny
You & yours are aliens, not of this Earth, playin’ star power, too far out to Space, Divinity!

Philosophy doctorate, aka PhD, so far away from the reality spun by the status quo mamas
Burnt into stoned commands of divine pretension, silent words in books on trauma papas
Any Art of War & Peace exhibits the experience of every animated thing itself, too humane
As above, so below, if we’re all like this, so they are the original, colored peoples’ disdain.

You & I are not worthy to be introduced to the link to the universe’s God, hey man, it’s OK
Pumped up with hot air you’ve either blown into or sucked out of the genome’s matrix bay
Known symbols revealing the destitution you inherited from a pool of relatives in Monterey
Cause of our life is not identical to the cause of galactic essence, hook, gold, pray for the prey.

To and fro on the swing of delight, it’s how the dream began & sentenced to ignorance’s Id
The thing itself that wants to be alive, no matter what other than dealing out the ultimatum
Only place we’ll have to go is right here & now to get there & then, The Ends, all too human
It’s not our fault that we’re an accident of natural selection, dead Adam, supernatural man.

by
rjjstephan, i

c. Vendredi, April VIIth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 1010 AMPST
{ Jammed while listenin’ to @Morgan_Wallen #WhiskeyGlasses @Luke_Combs & @Chris_Stapleton link @ https://youtu.be/L3KMpt3XRQs }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?